THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
ERNEST  CARROLL  MOORE 


JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 


THE     SPERONARA 


The  Ruins  of  the  Greek  Theatre.  Taormina 

M  -lint  stitirj  ni  tbc  Distance 


JOURNEYS    WITH    DUMAS 


THE   SPERONARA 


FROM  THE  FRENCH  OF 

ALEXANDRE    DUMAS 

BY 

KATHARINE   PRESCOTT  WORMELEY 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND   COMPANY 
1902 


Copyright,  1909, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 


All  riglUt  reserved 


Published  October,  1909 


JOHN  WILSON 
AMD  SON    •  CAM BK1UOB,  U.  I.  A. 


College 
Library 


JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 


TRANSLATORS  NOTE 

7~>\UMAS>  men  "Explanation"  of  his  "  Impres- 
•/--^    sions  de  voyage  "  is  as  follows  : 

"  I  know  not,  dear  readers,  if  you  will  remember 
tliat  one  day  —  it  will  soon  be  twenty-four  years  ago 
—  /  said, ( I  will  make  the  tour  of  the  Mediterranean  ; 
I  will  accomplish  its  periplus;  I  will  write  the  history 
of  t/ie  ancient  world,  which  is  nothing  else  than  the 
history  of  civilization.' 

"  People  laughed  ;  they  made  great  fun  of  me  ;  a 
man  ichom  I  had  enabled  to  win  a  million,  avenged 
himself  by  saying  a  witty  thing. 

"  '  Do  you  know,'  he  said,  *  that  Dumas  has  dis- 
covered the  Mediterranean  ! ' 

"  This  journey,  or  rather  this  series  of  journeys  that 
I  planned  was  difficult  to  accomplish  without  the  aid 
of  the  government  and  with  the  limited  resources  of  a 
man  of  letters  ;  but  after  all,  God  helping  me,  it  did 
not  seem  impossible. 

"  I  started  in  1834.  On  this  frst  journey  I  saw  the 
whole  of  the  South  of  France,  from  Cette  to  Toulon  : 
Aigues-Mortes,  Aries,  Tarascon,  Beaucaire,  Ntmes, 
Marseille,  Avignon,  Vaucluse. 


vi  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  That  icas  a  beginning. 

"  I  started  again  the  following  year  ;  this  time  my 
journey  lasted  two  years.  I  saw  Hyeres,  Cannes,  the 
ff"lf  °f  Frejus,  Grasse,  Draguignan,  Nice,  the  Cor- 
niche,  Genoa,  Florence,  Pisa,  Livorno,  Turin,  Milan, 
Pistoia,  Perugia,  Rome,  Naples,  Messina,  Palermo, 
Girgenti,  Marsala,  Syracuse,  Catania;  I  climbed 
JEtna  and  the  Stromboli;  I  visited  the  Lipari  islands  ; 
I  puslied  on  as  far  as  Lampedusa;  I  returned  to 
Reggio  ;  I  went  up  Calabria,  afoot,  to  PcRstum.  I 
was  arrested  once  at  Naples  by  his  Majesty  King 
Ferdinand ;  I  was  about  to  return  by  ivay  of  Venice, 
when  I  was  arrested  a  second  time,  at  Foligno,  by  his 
Holiness  Gregory  XVI. ,  brought  back  by  the  carbi- 
neers to  Thrasymene,  and  left  on  the  shore  of  the 
lake  ivith  injunction  to  return  to  France  as  fast  as 
possible. 

"  /  returned  to  France. 

"In  184^,  still  jirm  in  my  determination,  I  took  a 
boat  in  the  port  of  Livorno,  and  icith  that  boat,  which 
ought  to  have  foundered  a  dozen  times  and  never 
foundered  at  all,  I  visited  the  island  of  Elba,  Pia- 
nosa,  Gorgone,  Monte-Cristo,  and  Corsica* 

"  In  18 4G  I  started  for  Madrid.  I  visited  Barce- 
lona, Malaga,  Granada,  Cordova,  Seville,  Cadiz. 
I  straddled  the  straits;  I  went  to  Tangier,  from 
Tangier  to  Tetuan,  from  Tetuan  to  Gibraltar,  from 
Gibraltar  to  Melilla,  Djemma-Ghazaouat,  Oran, 
and  Algiers. 

"At  Algiers  I  made  a  pause  ;  I  wanted  to  see,  in  the 
interior,  BlUlah,  the  pass  of  Mouzaia,  and  Milianah. 

"  Tlien  I  started  again,  and  stopped  successively  at 


TRANSLATOR'S   NOTE  vii 

Djuljelli,  Golio,  Stora,  and  Philippeville  ;  I  went  to 
Constantine,  I  returned  to  Stora ;  I  embarked  for 
Tunis  and  the  Kerkennah  islands ;  I  visited  the 
Roman  amphitheatre  of  Djemdjem. 

"During  my  first  journey,  in  France,  I  spent  six 
thousand  francs  ;  during  my  second  journey,  in  Italy, 
eighteen  thousand ;  during  my  third  journey,  four 
thousand;  and  finally,  during  tJie  last  journey, 
thirty-three  thousand,  from  which  must  be  deducted 
ten  thousand  allowed  me  by  the  minister  of  Public 
Instruction.  Total :  fifty-one  thousand  francs. 

"  But  half  my  project  was  accomplished  ;  and  what 
matters  the  cost  of  accomplishment  ? 

"  The  works  which  resulted  from  these  different 
journeys  were  the  '  Impressions  de  Voyage,'  —  in  the 
tiouth  of  France,  —  a  Year  in  Florence,  —  the  Villa 
Palmieri  —  the  Speronara,  —  The  Isles  of  JEolus, 
—  the  Corricolo, — from  Paris  to  Cadiz,  —  the 
Ve'loce. 

"  Well,  now,  there  still  remains  to  achieve  the  whole 
of  what  I  undertook  ;  I  must  see  Venice,  Illyria,  the 
Ionian  islands,  Greece,  Constantinople,  the  shores  of 
Asia  Minor,  Syria,  Palestine,  Egypt,  the  Cyrenian 
coast,  Tripoli 

"  And  first,  I  begin,  before  going  farther,  with 
thanks  to  MM.  the  managers  of  the  imperial  Mt>s- 
sag  cries  [public  conveyances],  who,  as  soon  as  they 
kncio  my  project,  offered  me  gracefully  and  without 
remuneration,  a  passage  on  their  boats  for  myself 
and  my  secretary. 

"  That  ivas  much,  but  it  was  not  all  that  I  desired. 

"  To  travel  by  the  boats  of  the  Mcssageries  means 


viii  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

touching  at  Malta,  Syra,  Alexandria,  Bey  rout, 
Smyrna,  and  Constantinople;  seeing  what  every- 
body sees  ;  telling  it  better  or  less  well  than  ot/iers, 
but  at  any  rate  telling  it  after  others.  Now  the 
journey  that  I  want  to  make,  I  myself,  is  a  journey 
such  as  no  one  hits  made  before  me. 

"  /  must  make  it  with  a  boat  of  my  own  ;  a  boat  that 
can  stand  the  sea  without  much  danger  and  yet  not 
draw  more  than  jive  feet  of  water,  in  order  that  it 
may  enter  all  the  ports  of  the  Greek  archipelago  and 
run  close  in  to  all  the  creeks  on  the  coast  of  Asia. 
This  boat  I  shall  have  some  day;  and  before  long, 
I  hope. 

"  Meantime  I  have  accepted  the  invitation  of  a 
friend  to  go  to  St.  Petersburg  and  be  the  best  man  at 
the  wedding  of  his  sister-in-law,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  to  be  present  at  this  coming  grand  operation  of 
freeing  forty-five  millions  of  serfs. 

"I  do  not  expect  to  stay  long  in  St.  Petersburg. 
After  marrying  my  friend's  sitter,  seeing  the  city, 
and  crossing  the  Neva  on  one  of  those  beautiful  trans- 
lucent nights  when  we  can  read  the  writing  of  the 
woman  we  love,  however  fine  it  be,  I  shall  start 
for  Moscow  —  the  sacred  city,  still  full  of  the  memory 
of  our  disaster,  grand  as  a  victory.  There,  I  shall 
mount  tlie  citadel  of  the  tzars  to  see  not  only  the 
cupolas,  gilded  or  painted  green,  of  its  palaces,  the 
steeples  of  its  churches,  its  sections  called  the  earth- 
city,  the  white-city,  the  Chinese-city,  not  only  the 
Kremlin,  the  tmcer  of  Iran  the  Great  (tlie  tallest  in 
the  city,  formerly  inclosing  a  bell  that  weit/hed  three 
hundred  and  thirty  thousand  pounds)  its  angular 


TRANSLATOR'S   NOTE  ix 

palaces,  the  arsenal,  the  theatre,  the  cathedral;  not 
these  things  only,  but  the  traces  of  that  terrible  fire 
which  consumed  a  city  of  three  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  inhabitants,  and  froze  an  army  of  five 
hundred  thousand  men.  I  shall  follow  down  the 
course  of  the  river  and  find  on  the  plain  of  the  Mos- 
cova  the  remains  of  the  great  redoubt  where  fell  Cau- 
laincourt  and  where  Ney  received  the  title  of  prince. 

"  Then  I  shall  return  to  Moscow  to  visit  its  bazaars 
(where  already  we  find  the  Orient)  its  Krasnoi  square, 
its  gate  of  Saint-  Vladimir  ;  and  there  I  will  relate 
the  marvellous  legends  of  Mentchikof,  the  seller  of 
little  patties,  and  of  Catherine,  the  Lithuanian  ser- 
vant-girl. 

"  After  that  I  shall  start  for  Novgorod  the  little, 
Nigi-Novgorod,  for  that  will  be  the  period  of  the 
splendid  fair  which  attracts  the  merchants  of  Persia, 
India,  and  China ;  where  I  shall  find  the  weapons  of 
the  Caucasus,  the  silver-ware  of  Toula,  the  coats-of- 
mail  of  Tifiis  ;  where  malachite  and  lapis-lazuli  are 
sold  in  blocks ;  where  turquoises  are  measured  by  the 
bushel;  where  we  may  buy  in  bales  the  stuffs  of 
Smyrna  and  Ispahan;  and  where  is  brought  that 
famous  tea  of  the  Caravan,  for  which  Russia  pays 
its  weight  in  silver,  and  France  and  England  its 
weight  in  gold. 

"  Curiosity  quenched,  I  shall  embark  upon  the  Volga, 
tfiat  king  of  the  rivers  of  Europe,  as  the  Amazon  is 
queen  of  the  rivers  of  America,  which  falls  after  a 
course  of  eighteen  hundred  miles,  through  seventy 
mouths,  into  the  Caspian  sea.  On  its  way  I  shall 
find  Astrakhan,  with  its  three  bazaars,  for  Russians, 


x  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

Hindoos,  and  Asiatics  —  Astrakhan,  which  touches 
with  its  right  hand  the  Cossacks  of  the  Don,  and  with 
its  left  hand  the  Cossacks  of  the  Oural,  and,  turning 
its  head,  sees,  till  sight  is  lost,  the  vast  steppes  of  the 
Kirghis  Tartars,  their  billows  of  verdure  hearing 
with,  the  same  regular  motion  as  the  waves  of  the 
Caspian  sea. 

"  Here  I  must  pause  a  few  days  to  see  once  more 
those  men  of  the  long  beard,  the  pointed  cap,  the  wide 
red  breeches,  whose  lance,  bow,  and  quiver  were  the 
terror  of  my  childhood.  Then,  after  hunting  bus- 
tards on  their  little  horses,  and  visiting  the  fisheries 
that  supply  those  sturgeons  one  of  which  will  feed  a 
village,  and  those  sterlets  the  price  of  one  of  which 
will  make  the  fortune  of  a  family,  I  take  a  steam- 
boat to  Kara'ia,  wliere  a  tarantasse  is  waiting  to  take 
me  on  to  Tiflis. 

"  I  breatlie  for  an  instant  in  that  l  hot  town,'  so- 
called  from  its  sulphur  baths.  There  I  shall  sit  at 
the  window  of  the  charming  Princess  Marie  Gralitzin 
and  watch  India  entering  Europe  and  Europe  going 
to  India.  This  is  their  passage-way,  the  capital  of 
Georgia,  the  palace  of  tlie  kings  of  Karihti.  I  am 
now  at  the  foot  of  the  Caucasus,  and  about  to  pax* 
before  the  rock  to  which  Prometheus  was  nailed,  on 
my  way  to  visit  the  camp  of  Schamyl,  that  other 
Titan  who,  just  as  Job  the  excommunicated  struggled 
in  his  village  against  the  Emperors  of  Germany,  is 
struggling  on  his  mountain  against  the  Tzars  of 
Russia. 

"  Will  Schamyl  know  my  name,  and  icill  he  permit 
me  to  sleep  a  night  in  his  tent  ? 


TRANSLATOR'S   NOTE  xi 

"  Why  not  ?  The  bandits  of  the  Sierra  knew  it  well 
and  allowed  me  to  sleep  three  nights  in  their  huts. 

"  That  visit  paid,  I  shall  descend  to  the  plains  of 
Stavropol;  leaving  on  the  right  the  Kalmuck  Tar- 
tars, on  the  left  the  Cossacks  of  the  Black  Sea. 
Reaching  the  sea  of  Azof  I  take  a  boat  and  visit 
Taganrog,  where  Alexander  died  of  regret  — perhaps 
of  remorse  —  and  Kertch,  where  Mithridates,  pur- 
sued by  the  Romans,  killed  himself;  thence  a  steam- 
boat will  take  me  in  two  days  to  Sevastopol,  next  to 
Odessa,  and  land  me  finally  at  Galafz,  where  I  shall 
see  if  Semi  in  and  Belgrade  are  still  at  war,  and  so 
pass  on  to  Vienna ;  at  Vienna  I  shall  visit  Schoen- 
briin,  the  palace-tomb ;  Wagram,  the  plain  of  ter- 
rible memories;  and  the  island  Lobau,  where 
Napoleon  received  from  the  river  which  he  meant, 
like  Xerxes,  to  chain,  the  first  warning  of  fate. 

"  Vienna  is  Paris ;  three  days,  and  I  shall  be 
among  you  again,  saying  to  you,  dear  readers:  'I 
have  done  nine  thousand  miles  in  six  months ;  do 
you  recognize  me  ?  Here  I  am  ! ' ' 

\\lien  these  words  were  written  there  was  no  "  trav- 
elling public,"  ami  even  the  reading  public  knew  com- 
paratively little  of  countries  that  were  foreign  to 
their  own.  All  is  changed  since  then.  The  pages 
of  Murray,  Baedeker,  ami  the  German  guide-books 
teem  with  the  lore,  historical  and  legendary,  that 
Dumas  gathered,  and  which  is  too  well  known  to 
myriads  of  travellers  to  be  other  than  dull  reading 
now.  But  the  narrative,  the  talcs,  the  anecdotes  re- 
main as  perennially  fresh  as  the  best  novels  of  the  de- 


xii  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

light/id  old  writer.     Those  are  the  parts  translated 
here. 

Passing  his  year  of  travel  in  the  South  of  France 
—  a  region  sacred  now  to  the  immortal  Tartarin 
and  his  progenitor,  sons  of  its  soil,  and  to  the  manner 
born  —  we  take  him  first  in  his  Speronaraand  his 
Corricolo,  and  then  —  well,  then  as  circumstances,  in- 
terest, circulation,  and  courage  may  provide. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.  THE  SANTA-MARIA  m  PIE  DI  GROTTA   .     .  1 

II.  CAPRI.     LA  BURRASCA 26 

III.  MESSINA  IL  NOBILE.    TAORMINA  LA  BELLA  .  56 

IV.  CATANIA.     SAN  NICOLA  IL  VECCHIO   ...  83 
V.  ^ETNA 118 

VI.  SlRACUSA 147 

VII.  DEATH  IN  LIFE.     A  LIVING  TOMB    .     .     .  176 

VIII.  A  SHARK.     PANTELLARIA 248 

IX.  GlRGENTI    THE    MAGNIFICENT 278 

X.  COLONEL  SANTA-CROCE 308 

XI.  THE  INTERIOR  OF  SICILY 32<) 

XII.  PALERMO  FELICE.     SEGESTA 349 


JOURNEYS  WITH  DUMAS 

THE   SPERONARA 
I 

THE   SANTA-MARIA    DI    PIE   DI    GROTTA 

WE  started  from  Paris  on  the  15th  of  Octo- 
ber, 1834,  intending  to  visit  the  South  of 
France,  Corsica,  Italy,  Calabria,  and  Sicily. 

The  journey  we  were  undertaking  was  neither  a 
trip  of  people  of  fashion  nor  an  expedition  of 
learned  men,  but  a  pilgrimage  of  artists.  We  in- 
tended to  neither  rush  along  the  main  roads  in  a 
post-chaise  nor  bury  ourselves  in  libraries,  but  to  go 
wherever  a  picturesque  view,  an  historical  memory, 
or  a  popular  tradition  might  call  us.  Consequently, 
we  started  forth  without  a  fixed  itinerary,  leaving  to 
chance  and  our  good  luck  the  care  of  leading  us 
whithersoever  there  was  something  to  gain  ;  little 
concerned  for  the  harvests  already  reaped  by  our 
predecessors ;  certain  that  men  can  never  gather  into 
their  granaries  all  the  blades  that  God  has  sown, 
and  convinced  that  there  is  never  a  land  so  well 
raked  that  no  last  sheaf  is  left  for  history,  poesy,  or 
imagination  to  glean. 

The  convoy  was  composed  of  GeoffVoy  Jadin, 
whom  the  last  two  Exhibitions  had  placed  in  the 


2  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

front  rank  of  our  landscape  painters ;  Amaury 
Duval,  who  was  to  join  us  later  in  Florence,  where 
he  was  completing,  by  the  study  of  the  great  mas- 
ters, his  Raffaellesque  education  begun  in  the  studios 
of  M.  Ingres ;  myself,  who  directed  the  expedition ; 
and  Milord,  who  followed  it. 

As  the  first  three  personages  whom  I  have  just 
named  are  already  more  or  less  known  to  the  public 
by  their  works,  I  shall  not  discourse  upon  their 
qualities,  physical  or  moral ;  but  I  ask  permission 
to  dwell  upon  the  last  of  the  four,  who  will  play,  in 
the  course  of  this  narrative,  too  important  a  part  to 
let  me  neglect  to  make  him  known  at  the  outset  to 
my  readers,  to  whom  I  suspect  him  of  being  totally 
unknown. 

Milord  was  born  in  London,  in  1828,  in  the 
kennel  of  the  house  of  Lord  Arthur  G  .  .  .  ,  which 
stands  in  Regent  Street.  His  father  was  a  terrier, 
and  his  mother  a  bull-dog  ;  both  of  pure  and  ancient 
ancestry  ;  so  that  their  son  united  in  his  person  all 
the  characteristic  qualities  of  the  two  races :  that 
is  to  say,  physically,  a  head  as  big  in  itself  as  the 
rest  of  his  body,  adorned  with  two  large  eyes  that 
grew  bloody  at  the  slightest  emotion,  also  a  nose 
half  split,  revealing  part  of  the  upper  teeth  of  jaws 
that  opened  from  ear  to  ear  and  closed  like  a  vise  ; 
and  morally,  with  an  ardour  for  combat  which,  when 
excited,  spent  itself  indifferently  on  every  species  of 
animal  or  thing,  from  a  rat  to  a  bull,  from  the  fuse 
of  a  sky-rocket  exploding  in  fireworks  to  the  lava 
that  gushed  from  a  volcano. 

We  started  from  Paris,  as  I  have  said,  with   the 


THE   SPERONARA  3 

intention  of  roaming  over  the  South  of  France,  Italy, 
Sicily,  and  Calabria,  and  part  of  this  scheme  had 
already  been  accomplished  when,  after  a  stay  of 
three  weeks  in  Rome,  I  had  the  honour  to  meet  at 
the  house  of  the  Marquis  de  T  .  .  .  ,  French  charge 
(TqffuireS)  the  Comte  de  Ludorf,  our  ambassador  to 
Naples.  As  I  was  about  to  start  in  a  few  days  for 
that  city,  the  Marquis  de  T.  .  .  .  thought  it  desir- 
able to  introduce  me  to  his  honourable  associate,  in 
order  to  facilitate  the  diplomatic  methods  which 
were  to  open  to  me  the  barriers  to  Terracina.  M.  de 
Ludorf  received  me  with  the  cold  and  vacant  smile 
that  promises  nothing,  though  it  did  not  deter  me, 
two  days  later,  from  taking  to  him  our  passports 
myself  for  his  official  visa.  M.  de  Ludorf  had  the 
goodness  to  tell  me  to  deposit  our  passports  in  his 
office  and  to  return  in  two  days  to  obtain  them.  As 
we  were  not  in  any  degree  hurried,  I  took  leave  of 
M.  de  Ludorf,  inwardly  resolving  not  to  allow  my- 
self to  be  presented  to  any  ambassador  without  pre- 
viously obtaining  the  most  circumstantial  information 
as  to  him  and  his  manners. 

Two  days  later  I  presented  myself  at  the  passport 
office,  where  an  employe,  with  the  best  civility  in 
the  world,  informed  me  that  difficulties  had  arisen 
concerning  my  r/.wz,  and  that  it  would  be  well  if  I 
saw  the  ambassador  myself.  Thus  I  was  obliged, 
in  spite  of  mv  resolution,  to  call  again  upon  M.  de 
Ludorf.  I  found  him  colder  and  stiller  than  l>efore  ; 
but  as  I  thought  it  would  probably  lx)  the  last  time 
I  should  ever  have  the  honour  of  seeing  him,  I  was- 
patient.  He  made  me  a  sign  to  sit  down  ;  I  took  a 


4  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

chair.  That  was  better  than  the  first  time,  when  he 
left  me  standing. 

"  Monsieur,1'1  he  said  with  a  certain  embarrassment, 
fingering  the  pleats  of  his  shirt-frill,  "  I  regret  to 
tell  you  that  you  cannot  go  to  Naples." 

"Why  not?11!  asked,  quite  determined  to  give 
our  dialogue  the  tone  I  chose ;  "  is  it  because  the 
roads  are  bad  ?  " 

"  No,  monsieur,  the  roads,  on  the  contrary,  are 
superb ;  but  you  have  the  misfortune  to  be  upon 
the  list  of  those  who  cannot  enter  the  Neapolitan 
kingdom.11 

"  However  honourable  that  distinction  may  be, 
your  Excellency,11  I  replied,  suiting  the  tone  to  the 
words,  "  as  it  will  break  up  one  half  of  my  proposed 
journey,  you  will,  I  hope,  permit  me  to  insist  on 
knowing  the  cause  of  this  prohibition.  If  it  is  one 
of  those  slight  causes  one  meets  everywhere  in  Italy, 
I  have  friends  in  social  life  who  have  power,  I  think, 
to  remove  it.11 

"The  causes  are  very  serious,  monsieur;  and  I 
doubt  if  your  friends,  however  high  their  position 
may  be,  have  enough  influence  to  remove  them.'1 

"Hut  surely  without  indiscretion,  monsieur,  I  may 
be  allowed  to  know  them.11 

"  Oh  !  mon  Dieu,  yes,"  replied  M.  de  Ludorf,  care- 
lessly, "  I  see  no  objection  to  telling  you.  In  the 
first  place,  you  are  the  son  of  General  Mathieu 
Dumas,  who  was  minister  of  war  in  Naples,  during 
the  usurpation  of  Joseph  Bonaparte.11 

"  I  am  sorry,  your  Excellency,  to  refuse  relation- 
ship with  the  illustrious  general  you  name;  but  you 


THE   SPERONAIIA  5 

are  mistaken ;  there  is  not  even  a  family  connection 
between  us.  My  father  is  General  Alexarulre 
Dumas." 

"  General  Alexandra  Dumas  ?  "  said  M.  de  Luclorf, 
as  if  he  were  searching  his  mind  as  to  where  he  could 
have  heard  that  name. 

"  Yes,"  I  continued,  "  the  man  who  after  he  was 
made  prisoner  at  Tarento,  in  defiance  of  the  laws  of 
hospitality,  was  poisoned  at  Brindisi  with  Mauscourt 
and  Dolomieu  in  defiance  of  the  law  of  nations.  This 
happened  at  the  time  they  were  hanging  Caracciolo 
in  the  Bay  of  Naples.  You  see  I  do  all  I  can,  mon- 
sieur, I  help  your  memory." 

M.  de  Ludorf  pursed  his  lips. 

"Well!  monsieur,"  he  said,  after  a  moment's  si- 
lence, "there  is  a  second  reason  —  vour  political 
opinions.  You  are  designated  to  us  a  republican, 
and  you  have  left  Paris,  we  are  told,  on  political 
business." 

"  As  to  that,  I  reply,  monsieur,  bv  showing  you 
my  letters  of  introduction  ;  nearly  all  bear  the  seals 
of  our  ministries  and  the  signatures  of  our  ministers. 
See,  here  is  one  from  Admiral  Jacob,  and  one  from 
Marechal  Soult,  and  this  is  from  the  minister  of 
Public  Instruction,  M.  Villemain  ;  they  all  request 
for  me  the  help  and  protection  of  French  ambas- 
sadors in  just  such  circumstances  as  those  I  am 
now  in." 

"Well!"  replied  M.  de  Ludorf,  "as  you  have 
foreseen  and  provided  for  the  position  in  which  vou 
are,  you  must  face  it,  monsieur,  bv  the  means  in 
your  power.  As  for  me,  I  declare  that  I  shall  not 


6  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

Z'ixe  your  passport.  Here  are  those  of  your  com- 
panions, which  are  duly  signed,  for  I  see  no  impro- 
priety in  their  going  where  they  choose ;  but  I  am 
forced  to  say  again,  they  will  go  without  you."" 

"  Has  your  Excellency  any  commissions  for 
Naples  ?  "  I  said,  rising. 

"  Why  do  you  ask,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  Because  I  will  execute  them  with  great  pleasure." 

*'  But  I  have  told  you  that  you  cannot  go  there." 

"  I  shall  be  there  within  three  days." 

I  bowed  to  M.  de  Ludorf  and  went  out  leaving 
him  stupefied  by  my  assurance. 

There  was  no  time  to  lose  if  I  meant  to  do  as  I 
said  ;  I  rushed  to  an  old  friend  of  mine,  a  pupil  in 
the  Ecole  de  Rome,  whom  I  had  known  in  the  studio 
of  M.  Ix'thierre. 

"  My  dear  Guichard,  you  must  do  me  a  service." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Go,  immediately,  and  ask  M.  Ingres  for  permis- 
sion to  travel  in  Sicily  and  Calabria." 

"But,  my  very  dear  fellow,  I  am  not  going  to 
travel  there." 

"  No,  but  I  am,  and  as  they  wont  let  me  go  with 
my  name,  I  must  go  with  yours." 

"Oh!  that ""s  another  thing.     I  understand.*1 

"  Armed  with  M.  Ingres1  permission,  you  must  go 
and  get  a  passport  from  our  chargt  d'affaires.  Fol- 
low the  sequence.  With  that  passport,  go  to  the 
ambassador  to  Naples  and  have  it  v\ycd\  then  with 
that  vive  I  start  for  Naples." 

"  Famous  !     When  do  you  want  it '(  n 

"  Immediately." 


THE   SPERONARA  7 

"  The  time  to  change  my  blouse  and  run  up  to  the 
Academy." 

"  1 11  go  and  pack  my  things."" 

"  Where  shall  I  find  you  ?  " 

"  At  Pastrini's,  Piazza  di  Spagna." 

"  1 11  be  there  in  two  hours." 

True  enough,  in  two  hours  Guichard  was  at  the 
hotel  with  the  passport  all  in  good  order.  That 
same  evening  I  took  the  coach  for  Angrisani,  and 
reached  Naples  the  next  day  but  one.  Obviously,  I 
had  so  far  nothing  to  complain  of.  But  it  was  not 
enough  to  be  in  Naples,  I  might  be  discovered  at  any 
moment.  I  had  known  in  Paris  a  very  illustrious 
personage,  who  passed  there  for  a  marquis  ;  he  was 
now  in  Naples,  where  he  passed  for  a  spy.  If  I  met 
him  I  was  lost.  It  was  urgent,  therefore,  to  get  over 
to  Palermo  or  Messina.  So,  on  the  very  day  of  our 
arrival  we  rushed,  Jadin  and  I,  to  the  port  in  search  of 
a  boat,  steam  or  sails,  which  would  take  us  to  Sicily. 

In  all  the  countries  of  the  world  the  arrival  and 
departure  of  steamboats  goes  by  rule  ;  it  is  known 
what  day  they  depart,  what  day  they  will  arrive. 
Not  so  at  Naples.  The  captain  is  the  sole  judge  of 
the  proper  time  for  starting.  When  he  has  his  full 
contingent  of  passengers  he  lights  his  fires  and  rings 
his  bell.  Until  then  he  reposes,  he  and  his  boat. 
Unluckily  for  us  it  was  now  the  20th  of  August, 
and  as  no  one  was  anxious  to  go  and  roast  in  Sicily 
with  the  glass  at  90°,  passengers  did  not  turn  up. 
The  mate,  who  happened  to  be  aboard  the  regular 
steamer,  told  us  the  vessel  might  not  start  fora  week, 
and  even  then  he  could  not  warrant  its  departure. 


8  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

We  were  standing  on  the  Mole  in  despair  at  this 
check,  and  Milord  was  hunting  a  cat,  when  a  sailor 
came  up  to  us,  cap  in  hand,  and  addressed  us  in  the 
Sicilian  patois.  Little  familiar  as  we  were  with  that 
idiom,  it  was  not  so  far  away  from  Italian  but  that  I 
managed  to  make  out  he  was  offering  to  take  us  wher- 
ever we  wished.  We  then  asked  him  on  what  he 
proposed  to  take  us,  inclined  as  we  were  to  start  on 
anything,  no  matter  what  it  was.  He  immediately 
walked  along  the  Mole  before  us,  and  stopping  be- 
side the  lighthouse,  he  showed  us,  fifty  feet  distant 
and  sleeping  at  her  anchor,  a  charming  little  vessel 
of  the  usual  tonnage  of  a  coasting  schooner,  and  so 
coquettishly  painted  in  green  and  red  that  we  were 
sei/ed  at  once  with  a  sympathy  which  showed  itself 
no  doubt  in  our  faces,  for  without  waiting  for  an 
answer,  the  sailor  signed  to  a  boat  to  come  for  us, 
sprang  into  it,  and  held  out  his  hand  to  help  us 
down. 

Our  speronara  —  that  is  the  name  they  give  in  the 
Mediterranean  to  this  class  of  little  vessels  —  had 
nothing  to  lose  on  examination,  and  the  nearer  we 
came  to  her  the  better  we  could  see,  developing  by 
degrees,  the  elegance  of  her  shape  and  the  brilliancy 
of  her  colouring.  The  result  was  that  lx>fore  we  set 
foot  on  board  we  were  half-resolved  to  take  her. 

We  found  the  captain  on  board,  —  a  handsome 
young  man  alxnit  twenty-eight  to  thirty  years  of  age, 
with  a  frank  and  decided  face.  lie  spoke  rather 
lx;tter  Italian  than  his  sailor.  We  were  able  to 
understand  each  other,  or  nearly  so.  A  quarter  of 
an  hour  later  v.e  had  made  a  bargain  at  eight  ducats 


THE  SPERONARA  9 

a  day,  for  which  sum  the  vessel  and  crew  belonged  to 
us,  body  and  soul,  planks  and  sails.  We  could  keep 
her  as  long  as  we  chose,  take  her  where  we  chose, 
leave  her  when  and  where  we  chose  ;  we  were  free ; 
only,  so  long  kept,  so  long  paid.  That  was  just. 

I  went  down  into  the  hold ;  the  boat  was  in 
ballast.  I  required  the  captain  to  bind  himself 
positively  to  take  neither  merchandise  nor  passen- 
gers ;  he  gave  me  his  word.  His  look  was  so  honest 
that  I  asked  him  for  no  guarantee. 

We  returned  to  the  deck  and  I  inspected  our 
cabin.  It  was  simply  a  species  of  circular  wooden 
tent  set  up  at  the  stern  and  lashed  to  the  timbers 
of  the  vessel  with  sufficient  firmness  to  leave  no 
reason  to  fear  a  squall  or  the  shipping  of  a  sea. 
Ik-hind  this  tent  was  an  open  space  left  free  for  the 
handling  of  the  tiller.  This  was  the  region  of  the 
pilot.  The  tent  was  entirely  empty.  It  was  our 
business  to  procure  the  necessary  furniture;  the 
captain  of  the  Santa-Maria  di  Pie  di  Grotta  not 
providing  furnished  quarters.  But  after  all,  in  view 
of  the  limited  space,  these  furnishings  had  to  confine 
themselves  to  two  mattresses,  two  pillows,  and  four 
pairs  of  sheets.  The  deck  served  as  bedstead.  As 
for  the  sailors,  including  the  captain,  they  slept  as 
usual  between  decks.  We  agreed  to  send  our  neces- 
saries that  evening,  and  the  hour  for  departure  was 
fixed  for  the  next  day  at  eight  in  the  morning. 

We  had  gone  about  a  hundred  steps,  congratulat- 
ing ourselves,  Jadin  and  I,  on  our  decision,  when  the 
captain  ran  after  us  to  advise  us,  above  all,  not  to 
forget  to  bring  a  cook.  The  advice  seemed  so  singu- 


10  JOURNEYS  WITH    DUMAS 

lar  that  I  asked  an  explanation.  I  then  learned  that 
in  the  interior  of  Sicily,  a  wild  and  desolate  region 
where  the  inns,  when  there  are  any,  are  only  halting- 
places,  a  cook  is  a  thing  of  prime  necessity.  We 
promised  the  captain  to  send  one  aboard  with  our 
belongings. 

My  first  care  on  returning  to  the  Hotel  Vittoria 
was  to  inquire  of  the  landlord,  Monsieur  Martin 
Zir,  where  the  required  cordon-bleu  could  be  found. 
Monsieur  Martin  Zir  replied  that  by  marvellous  luck 
he  had  the  very  thing  on  hand.  At  first  his  answer 
satisfied  me  so  completely  that  I  went  to  my  room 
without  inquiring  further;  but  once  there,  I  thought 
there  would  be  no  harm  in  making  a  few  preliminary 
inquiries  as  to  the  moral  qualities  of  our  future  fel- 
low-traveller. Consequently,  I  questioned  one  of  the 
servants  of  the  hotel,  who  assured  me  I  might  feel 
quite  easy,  for  Monsieur  Martin  was  giving  me  his 
own  cook.  This  self-sacrifice,  far  from  reassuring 
me,  only  increased  my  fears.  If  Monsieur  Martin 
was  satisfied  with  his  cook  why  did  he  yield  him  to 
the  first  stranger  who  came  along  ?  If  he  was  not 
satisfied  with  him  I,  however  easy-going  I  may  be, 
would  prefer  another.  I  therefore  went  in  search 
of  Monsieur  Martin,  to  ask  him  whether  I  could 
really  rely  on  the  honesty  and  culinary  science  of  his 
protege.  Monsieur  Martin  replied  with  a  pompous 
eulogy  on  the  merits  of  Giovanni  Cama.  lie  was 
honesty  personified,  also  he  was  perfectly  skilled  for 
the  duties  I  was  about  to  confide  to  him.  As  for 
that,  indeed,  he  had  the  reputation  of  being  the  best 
fnttatore  not  only  in  the  capital,  but  in  the  kingdom. 


THE   SPERONARA  11 

But  the  more  Monsieur  Martin  descanted  on  his 
virtues,  the  more  my  uneasiness  increased,  until  at 
last  I  risked  asking  him  why,  possessing  such  a 
treasure,  he  consented  to  part  with  it. 

"Alas,""  he  answered,  sighing,  "he  has,  unfortu- 
nately for  me  who  live  in  Naples,  a  defect  which  will 
he  of  no  importance  to  you  who  are  going  to  Sicily." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  I  asked  anxiously. 

"  lie  is  appassionato"  replied  Monsieur  Martin. 

I  burst  out  laughing ;  for  I  must  tell  you  that,  in 
passing  before  the  kitchen,  Monsieur  Martin  had 
shown  me  Cama  among  his  ovens,  and  Cama, 
throughout  his  person,  from  the  top  of  his  big  head 
to  the  toes  of  his  long  feet,  was  certainly  the  man  in 
the  world  to  whom  that  epithet  was  least  applicable. 
Besides  which,  an  impassioned  cook  seemed  to  me  to 
the  last  degree  mythological.  Nevertheless,  observing 
that  my  landlord  spoke  with  the  utmost  seriousness, 
I  continued  my  questions. 

"  Impassioned  with  what  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  With  Rolando." 

"  With  Rolando  ?  "  I  repeated,  thinking  I  heard  ill. 

"With  Rolando,"  replied  Monsieur  Martin,  with 
bated  breath. 

"Ah  ca!"I  said,  beginning  to  think  mine  host 
was  making  fun  of  me,  "  it  seems  to  me,  my  dear 
Monsieur  Martin,  that  we  are  talking  nonsense. 
Cama  appassionato  for  Rolando,  —  what  does  that 
mean  ?  " 

*'  Have  you  ever  been  on  the  Mole  ?  "" 

"I  have  just  come  from  there, — from  the  light- 
house."" 


12  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  Oh  !  but  this  is  not  the  hour." 

"Not  the  hour?" 

"  No.  In  order  to  understand  what  I  shall  now 
tell  you,  you  ought  to  have  been  there  in  the 
evening,  at  the  hour  when  the  improvimtores  sing. 
Have  you  been  there  in  the  evening  ?" 

"  How  do  you  suppose  I  have  been  there  in  the 
evening?  I  arrived  in  Naples  this  morning  and  it  is 
only  two  in  the  afternoon  now." 

"True.  But  you  must  have  heard,  among  the 
traditional  sayings  about  Naples,  that  when  a  la/- 
zarone  has  earned  two  sous  his  day's  work  is  done  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  know  how  he  divides  his  two  sous  ?  " 

"  No.     Is  it  indiscreet  to  inquire  how  ?" 

"  Not  the  least  in  the  world :  one  sou  goes  for 
macaroni,  one  farthing  for  watermelon,  one  farthing 
for  the  old  folks,  and  one  farthing  for  tha  improvis- 
atore.  The  improvisatore  is,  after  the  food  he  eats, 
the  water  he  drinks,  the  air  he  breathes,  the  most 
necessary  thing  to  the  lazzarone.  Now,  what  does 
the  improvisatore  sing  usually?  He  sings  the  poem 
of  the  divine  Ariosto,  the  'Orlando  Furioso/  Ib 
results  that  for  this  primitive  population,  with  excit- 
able passions  and  ardent  heads,  fiction  becomes  re- 
ality; the  tilts  of  paladins,  the  felonies  of  giants,  the 
misfortunes  of  great  ladies  are  not  poesv,  but  history 
—  a  poor  people  who  do  not  know  their  own  history 
are  in  need  of  one!  Hence  they  become  infatuated 
with  this  that  the  improvisatore  relates  to  them. 
Each  selects  his  hero  and  becomes  impassioned  for 
him  ;  some  take  Kinaldo,  those  are  the  young  heads; 


THE   SPEUOXARA  13 

so:ne  prefer  Rolando,  those  are  the  lovers ;  others 
are  for  Charlemagne,  they  are  the  reasonable  people. 
There  is  none  of  these  beings,  down  to  the  wi/ard 
Merlin,  who  has  not  his  proselyte.  Now  you  under- 
stand, don't  you  ?  how  that  animal  of  a  Catna  is  im- 
passioned for.  Rolando." 

"  Well,  but  what  harm  does  that  do  you  ?" 

"  Harm,  indeed  !  Why,  when  the  hour  for  the  im- 
provisatore  comes  there  is  no  way  to  keep  him  in  the 
kitchen;  which,  you  must  allow  is  very  embarrassing 
in  a  house  like  mine,  to  which  travellers  are  coming 
at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night.  Even  that  is  not 
the  worst  of  it.  I  have  a  waiter  who  is  a  Rinaldist, 
and  if  I  am  so  thoughtless  as  to  send  him  into  the 
kitchen  at  the  dinner-hour,  all  is  ruined  ;  an  argu- 
ment begins  about  one  or  other  of  those  brave  pala- 
dins ;  high  words  ensue  ;  each  exalts  his  hero  and 
depreciates  that  of  his  adversary  ;  nothing  is  heard 
but  the  clashing  of  sword -i,  the  slaying  of  giants, 
the  deliverance  of  the  castle  lady.  As  to  the  cook- 
ing, not  a  thought!  the  soup  boils  away,  the  spits 
stop,  the  roast  burns,  the  sauces  sour,  the  dinner  is 
bad,  the  guests  complain,  the  hotel  empties,  and  all 
because  that  rascal  of  a  cook  has  taken  it  into  his 
head  to  be  faiKit'ico  for  Rolando  !  Now  you  under- 
stand, don't  you  ?  " 

"  YV/j.y/  it  is  funny/'1 

"  No,  it  is  not  funny  at  all,  especially  not  for  me. 
But  as  for  you,  it  won't  matter  a  bit.  Once  in  Sic- 
ily, where  his  damned  improvisatore  and  that  cra/y 
waiter  can't  turn  his  head,  he  will  ro:ist  and  fricassee 
wonderfully,  and  what  is  more,  he  will  do  anything 


14  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

for  you  if  you  tell  him  now  and  then  that  Angelica 
was  a  good-for-nothing,  and  Medoro  a  rapscallion." 

"  I  '11  tell  him." 

"  Then  you  take  him  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  as  you  answer  for  him." 

Cama  was  brought  up.  He  made  some  objections 
as  to  the  short  time  he  had  in  which  to  prepare  for 
such  a  journey,  and  the  dangers  he  might  be  running ; 
but  I  managed  to  slip  in  a  graceful  word  about  Ro- 
lando, and  instantly  his  big  eyes  opened  wide,  his 
mouth  stretched  from  ear  to  ear,  he  began  to  laugh 
inanelv,  and  then,  seduced  by  our  communion  of  feel- 
ing as  to  the  nephew  of  Charlemagne,  he  put  himself 
entirely  at  my  service.  It  resulted  in  my  sending  him 
on  board  that  very  night,  as  I  had  promised  the  cap- 
tain, with  the  mattresses,  pillows,  sheets,  and  trunks. 
We  ourselves  followed  him  the  next  morning  at  the 
hour  agreed  upon. 

All  our  sailors  were  on  deck  awaiting  us.  No 
doubt  they  were  as  impatient  to  know  us  as  we  to 
see  them.  The  question  of  knowing  whether  our 
natures  would  be  in  sympathy  with  theirs  was  no 
less  important  to  them  than  to  us;  for  us,  nearly  all 
the  pleasure  we  expected  from  our  trip  depended  on 
it ;  for  them,  all  their  comfort  and  tranquillity  for 
the  next  three  months. 

The  crew  consisted  of  nine  men,  a  cabin-boy,  and 
a  child  ;  all  born  or  domiciled  in  the  village  Delia 
Pace,  near  Messina.  They  were  true  Sicilians  in  the 
fullest  meaning  of  the  term  ;  short  of  stature,  robu.st 
of  limb,  swarthy  i»  complexion,  with  Arab  eyes ; 
detesting  the  Calabrese,  their  neighbours,  and  exe- 


THE   SPERONARA  15 

crating  the  Neapolitans,  their  masters  ;  speaking  the 
soft  patois  of  Meli,  which  sounds  like  a  song,  scarcely 
comprehending  the  proud  Florentine  language;  al- 
ways complying,  never  servile ;  calling  us  "  Eccel- 
lenza""  and  kissing  our  hands,  because  that  formula 
and  that  action,  which  with  us  in  France  would  seem 
degrading,  with  them  in  Sicily  is  simply  the  expres- 
sion of  politeness  and  devotion.  Uy  the  end  of  the 
journey  they  had  come  to  love  us  like  brothel's,  all 
the  while  continuing  to  respect  us  as  superiors;  a 
subtile  distinction  in  which  affection  and  duty  kept 
their  own  places  ;  and  they  returned  to  us  exactly 
that  which  we  had  a  right  to  expect  in  exchange  for 
our  money  and  our  kind  treatment  of  them. 

Their  names  were:  Giuseppe  Arena,  captain,  Nun- 
/io,  first  pilot ;  Vicenzo,  second  pilot ;  Pietro,  brother 
to  Nun/io  ;  Giovanni,  Filippo,  Antonio,  Sieni,  Gae- 
tano.  The  cabin-boy  and  the  captain's  son,  a.  gamin 
six  or  seven  years  old,  completed  the  ship's  company. 
Now,  if  my  readers  permit,  having  cast  a  general  eve 
over  the  speronara  and  her  crew,  we  will  take  a 
more  particular  look  at  those  of  the  brave  fellows 
who  distinguished  themselves  by  their  natures  or  by 
some  speciality.  We  are  about  to  make  n  rather 
long  voyage  in  their  company,  and  the  reader,  if  dis- 
posed to  take  an  interest  in  the  tale,  ought  to  know 
our  companions  by  the  way.  I  shall  therefore  make 
them  visible  at  once  to  his  eyes  just  as  they  appeared 
successively  to  ours. 

Captain  Giuseppe  Arena  was,  as  I  have  said,  a 
handsome  man,  some  twenty-eight  or  thirty  years  of 
age,  with  a  frank  and  open  face  under  ordinary  cir- 


16  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

cunistanccs,  and  a  calm,  impassible  face  in  moments 
of  danger.  He  had  very  little  knowledge  of  naviga- 
tion, but  as  he  possessed  some  money,  he  had  bought 
the  vessel,  and  the  purchase  secured  to  him,  naturally, 
the  title  of  captain.  As  to  any  right  or  power  which 
that  title  gave  him  over  his  men,  we  never  once  saw 
him  make  use  of  it.  Aside  from  a  slight  tinge  of  re- 
spect which  they  showed  him  without  his  claiming  it, 
the  crew  lived  with  him  on  a  footing  of  equality  that 
was  truly  patriarchal. 

Nun/io  the  pilot  was,  after  the  captain,  the  most 
important  person  on  board.  lie  was  a  man  of  fifty, 
short  and  robust,  with  a  swarthy  skin,  gray  hair,  and 
a  rugged  face,  who  h  ul  navigated  from  childhood. 
He  was  clothed  in  blue  linen  trousers  and  a  woollen 
shirt;  to  these  strict  necessaries  he  added  on  cold  or 
rainy  days  a  species  of  hooded  cloak  which  combined, 
in  a  way,  the  overcoat  of  the  West  with  the  burnous 
of  the  desert.  This  cloak,  which  was  brown  in  colour 
and  embroidered  on  the  pocket-holes  and  openings 
for  the  arms  with  red  and  blue  thread,  fell  straight 
and  stiff',  giving  an  admirable  character  to  his  general 
appearance.  Nun/io  was  the  essential,  or  rather, 
the  indispensable  man  :  he  was  the  eye  that  kept 
watch  for  rocks,  the  ear  that  listened  for  the  wind, 
the  hand  that  guided  the  vessel.  In  heavy  weather 
the  captain  Ixx-ame  a  simple  sailor  and  made  over  to 
Nun/io  the  whole  power.  Then  from  the  tiller, 
which,  no  matter  what  the  weather  was,  he  never 
quitted  except  for  evening  prayer,  he  gave  his  orders 
with  such  firmness  and  precision  that  the  crew  obeyed 
him  as  one  man.  1 1  is  authority  lasted  as  long  as  the 


THE  SPERONARA  17 

tempest.  Then,  when  he  had  saved  the  vessel  and 
the  lives  of  those  on  board  of  her,  he  sat  down, 
simple  and  calm,  in  the  stern  of  the  boat  and  became 
once  more  Nun/io  the  pilot.  Hut,  although  he  relin- 
quished his  authority,  he  kept  his  influence;  for 
Nun/io,  religious,  like  all  true  sailors,  was  considered 
the  equal  of  the  prophets.  His  predictions  with 
reference  to  the  weather,  which  he  foresaw  by  signs 
imperceptible  to  other  eyes,  had  never  been  contra- 
dicted by  events;  so  that  the  affection  which  the 
crew  bore  to  him  was  mingled  with  a  certain  religious 
respect,  which  at  first  surprised  us,  but  which  we 
ended  by  sharing,  so  great  is  the  influence  upon  all 
men,  no  matter  what  their  condition,  of  superiority, 
be  it  what  it  may. 

Vicen/o,  whom  I  place  third,  more  to  follow  the 
hierarchy  of  rank  than  because  of  his  real  importance, 
bore  the  title  of  second  pilot.  It  was  he  who  took 
Nun/io's  place  in  the  rare  and  short  moments  when 
the  latter  left  the  helm.  During  the  calm  nights 
they  watched  by  turns.  At  other  times,  even  when 
his  help  was  useless  in  directing  the  vessel,  Vicenzo 
continued  to  sit  beside  the  old  prophet,  exchanging 
rare  words  with  him  and  oftcnest  in  a  whisper.  This 
habit  isolated  him  from  the  rest  of  the  crew  ;  also  he 
seldom  appeared  among  us,  and  never  spoke  unless  we 
questioned  him  ;  he  then  accomplished  the  act  of  re- 
plying as  a  duty  and  with  all  the  formulas  of  polite- 
ness in  use  among  sailors.  In  other  respects  an 
excellent,  worthy  man,  and,  after  Nun/io  who  was  a 
prodigy  in  this  respect,  enduring  in  a  marvellous 
manner  fatigue  and  sleeplessness. 


18  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

After  these  three  authorities  came  Pietro  ;  Pictro 
was  a  jovial  comrade  who  filled  among  the  crew  the 
place  of  wag  to  a  regiment;  always  gay,  constantly 
singing,  dancing,  and  grimacing ;  eternal  talker, 
frantic  dancer,  fanatical  swimmer,  agile  as  a  monkey, 
of  which  he  had  the  motions,  mingling  with  the  work- 
ing of  the  ship  grotesque  capers  and  comical  little 
cries  flung  out  after  the  manner  of  Auriol ;  ready 
for  anything,  joining  in  everything,  understanding 
all,  full  of  good-will  and  friendly  familiarity,  he  was 
the  most  intimate  with  us  of  all  his  companions. 
Pietro  allied  himself  at  once  with  our  bull-dog. 
The  latter,  of  a  nature  less  facile,  less  sociable,  an- 
swered his  advances  for  a  long  time  with  low  growls, 
changing  after  a  while  into  amicable  murmurs,  and 
finally  into  a  solid  and  lasting  friendship;  though 
Pietro,  hampered  in  his  pronunciation  by  the  Sicil- 
ian accent,  could  never  manage  to  call  Milord  any- 
thing but  Melor, —  a  change  which  at  first  seemed  to 
wound  his  self-respect,  though  he  ended  by  answering 
Pietro's  call  as  if  the  latter  had  given  him  his  right 
name. 

Giovanni,  a  large,  fat  fellow,  a  Southerner,  with 
the  white  skin  and  puffy  cheeks  of  a  Northerner, 
constituted  himself  our  cook  from  the  moment  friend 
Cama  was  sei/ed  with  sea-sickness,  which  happened 
to  him  ten  minutes  after  the  speronara  had  got  under 
way.  Giovanni  added  to  his  culinary  science  a 
talent  which  belongs  to  it  or  of  which  it  is,  strictly 
speaking,  the  consequence  —  that  of  a  harpooncr. 
In  fine  weather,  Giovanni  fastened  to  the  poop  a  bit 
of  twine,  four  or  five  feet  in  length,  to  the  extremity 


THE  SPERONARA  19 

of  which  he  appended  either  a  chicken-bone  or  a 
crust  of  bread.  That  twine  never  floated  more  than 
ten  minutes  in  our  wake  before  it  was  escorted  by 
seven  or  eight  h'sh  of  all  shapes  and  all  colours,  most 
of  them  unknown  in  our  ports,  but  among  which  we 
nearly  always  recognized  the  dory  by  its  gilded  scales, 
and  the  bass  by  its  voracity.  Then  Giovanni  took  his 
harpoon,  lying  ready  to  larboard  or  starboard  near 
the  oars,  and  called  us.  We  went  with  him  to  the 
stern  and  selected,  according  to  our  appetite  or  our 
curiosity,  from  among  the  finny  tribe  that  followed 
us,  the  one  that  suited  us  best.  Our  choice  made, 
Giovanni  raised  his  harpoon,  aimed  for  an  instant  at 
the  selected  fish,  and  then  the  weapon  sank  hissing 
into  the  sea,  only  to  return  a  second  later  to  the  sur- 
face of  the  water.  Then  Giovanni  drew  it  towards 
him  by  means  of  a  rope  fastened  to  his  arm,  and  at  the 
opposite  extremity  we  saw,  ten  times  out  of  twelve, 
the  luckless  h'sh  pierced  through  and  through.  The 
work  of  the  fisherman  was  then  over  and  that  of  the 
cook  began.  Now  it  happened  that  without  being 
actually  sea-sick  we  were  constantly  inclined  that  wav, 
and  it  was  not  always  an  easy  thing  to  tempt  our 
appetites.  A  discussion  was  immediately  started  as 
to  the  mode  of  cooking  and  seasoning  the  dish.  No 
turbot  ever  gave  rise  among  solemn  Roman  senators 
to  more  learned  and  profound  dissertations  than  those 
on  which  we  entered,  Jadin  and  I.  As,  for  greater 
facility,  we  discussed  the  matter  in  our  own  language, 
the  crew  stood  by,  motionless  and  mute,  until  the 
decision  was  made.  Giovanni  alone,  guessing  from 
the  expression  of  our  eyes  the  meaning  of  our  words, 


20  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

emitted  from  time  to  time  an  opinion  which  revealed 
to  us  sonic  mysterious  preparation,  and  usually  carried 
the  day  against  our  own.  The  sauce  thus  decided,  he 
seized  the  handle  of  the  gridiron  or  that  of  the  frying- 
pan  ;  1'ietro  scraped  the  fish  and  lighted  the  fire 
lx?tween  decks;  Milord,  who  was  never  sea-sick  and 
knew  that  many  fish-bones  and  skins  were  coming  to 
him,  wagged  his  tail  and  moaned  amorously.  The 
fish  was  cooked,  and  soon  Giovanni  served  it  to  us  on 
the  long  plank  which  answered  for  a  table,  our  quar- 
ters being  so  narrow  on  the  little  vessel  that  there 
was  no  room  for  an  actual  table.  Its  appeti/ing 
appearance  gave  us  the  highest  hopes ;  then,  at  the 
third  or  fourth  mouthful,  sea-sickness  obstinately 
claimed  its  rights,  and  the  crew  fell  heirs  to  the  fish, 
which  went  from  aft  to  forward  instantly,  followed  by 
Milord,  \vho  never  lost  sight  of  it  from  the  moment 
it  lay  upon  the  gridiron  or  the  frying-pan  till  its 
last  morsel  was  swallowed  by  the  cabin-bov. 

Next  comes  Filippo:  grave  as  a  quaker,  serious  as 
a  doctor,  silent  as  a  fakir.  We  never  heard  him 
laugh  but  twice  during  the  whole  course  of  our  voy- 
age :  the  first  time  when  our  friend  Caina  fell  into 
the  sea  in  the  gulf  of  Agrigentum  ;  the  second  time 
when  the  captain's  back  took  fire,  he  having,  by 
my  advice  and  to  cure  his  rheumatism,  rubbed  his 
loins  with  camphorated  brandy.  As  for  Filippo\s 
words,  I  think  we  did  not  have  a  single  opportunity 
to  know  their  sound  or  their  style.  The  good  or 
Iwul  condition  of  his  mind  was  manifested  by  sad  or 
lively  whistling,  with  which  he  accompanied  the 
songs  of  his  ship-mates,  though  he  never  sang  him- 


THE   SPERONARA  21 

pelf.  I  thought  for  a  long  time  that  he  was  dumb, 
and  I  did  not  say  a  word  to  him  for  nearly  a  month, 
for  fear  of  giving  him  pain  by  reminding  him  of 
his  infirmity.  He  was  the  strongest  diver  that  I 
have  ever  seen.  Sometimes  we  amused  ourselves  by 
Hinging  a  bit  of  money  from  the  poop  into  the  water; 
in  a  trice  he  was  stripped  as  the  coin  sank  and  after 
it  into  the  depths  of  the  sea,  where  we  lost  him  from 
sight  in  spite  of  the  transparency  of  the  water  ;  then, 
watch  in  hand,  after  forty  or  fifty  seconds  we  saw 
him  reappear,  perfectly  calm  and  without  apparent 
effort,  as  if  lie  inhabited  his  native  element  and  had 
merely  done  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world. 
Needless  to  say  that  he  brought  up  the  coin,  and  that 
the  coin  was  henceforth  his. 

Antonio  was  the  minstrel  of  the  crew.      He  san<; 

O 

the  tarantella  with  a  perfection  and  a  dash  that 
never  missed  their  effect.  At  times  we  were  seated, 
some  on  deck,  others  between  decks  ;  conversation 
languished  and  silence  fell;  suddenly  Antonio  would 
begin  that  electric  tune  which  is  to  the  Neapolitan 
and  Sicilian  what  the  muz  (h'x  wiche.v  is  to  the  Swit/er. 
On  which  Filippo  would  raise  gravely  one  half  of  his 
body  through  the  hatchway  and  whistle  an  accom- 
paniment. Then  Pietro  would  begin  to  beat  time, 
wagging  his  head  from  left  to  right  and  clacking 
his  thumbs  like  castanets.  But  at  the  fifth  or  sixth 
bar  a  visible  agitation  sei/inl  him  ;  his  whole  body  put 
itself  in  motion;  he  rose  on  one  knee,  next  on  both, 
then  he  was  up  altogether.  For  a  few  seconds  longer 
he  stood,  swaying  from  right  to  left,  but  not  quitting 
his  place ;  then,  as  if  the  planks  of  the  vessel  were 


22  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

heating  gradually,  he  lifted  one  foot,  then  the  other, 
until,  flinging  out  one  of  the  little  cries  I  mentioned 
expressive  of  his  joy,  lie  began  the  famous  national 
dance ;  at  first  with  a  slow  and  uniform  movement, 
which,  accelerating  ever  and  hastened  by  the  music, 
ended  at  last  in  a  species  of  frenzied  jig.  The  taran- 
tella never  ended  until  the  dancer  fell  exhausted  after 
a  final  caper  in  which  the  whole  of  the  choregraphic 
scene  was  summed  up. 

The  last  is  Sieni,  of  whom  I  have  no  recollection, 
and  Gaetano,  whom  we  seldom  saw,  because  he  was 
kept  ashore  by  an  attack  of  ophthalmia,  which 
appeared  on  the  day  after  our  arrival  in  the  Straits 
of  Messina.  I  do  not  speak  of  the  cabin-boy ;  he 
was,  quite  naturally,  what  that  estimable  class  of 
society  is  in  all  parts  of  the  world  —  the  drudge  of 
the  whole  ship's  company.  The  only  difference 
between  him  and  the  other  individuals  of  his  species 
lay  in  the  good  nature  of  his  comrades,  which  caused 
him  to  be  more  than  half  less  beaten  than  he  would 
have  been  on  a  Breton  or  a  Genoese  schooner. 

And  now  mv  readers  know  the  crew  of  the  Santa- 
Maria  di  Pie  di  Grotta  as  well  as  I  do  myself. 

As  I  have  said,  they  were  all  awaiting  us  on  the 
deck  of  the  little  vessel,  and  she,  taut  at  her  anchor, 
was  ready  to  depart.  I  made  a  last  turn  between 
decks  and  through  the  cabin  to  convince  myself 
that  our  provisions  and  property  were  all  aboard. 
I  found  Cama  between  decks  joyfully  established 
among  the  chickens  and  ducks  intended  for  our  table, 
and  setting  in  order  his  kitchen  utensils.  In  the 
cabin  I  found  our  beds  all  covered,  and  Milord  already 


THE  SPERONARA  23 

installed  on  that  of  his  master.  Everything  was  in 
its  place  and  all  were  at  their  posts.  The  captain 
then  came  to  me  and  asked  my  orders.  I  told  him 
to  wait  five  minutes.  Those  five  minutes  were  con- 
secrated to  giving  news  of  me  to  the  Comte  de 
Ludorf.  I  took  from  my  portfolio  a  sheet  of  my 
finest  paper  and  wrote  to  him  the  following  letter : 

MONSIEUR  LE  COMTE,  —  I  am  extremely  sorry  that 
your  Excellency  did  not  see  fit  to  charge  me  with  your 
commissions  for  Naples.  I  should  certainly  have  ex- 
ecuted them  with  a  fidelity  which  would  have  proved 
to  you  my  gratitude  for  your  kind  proceedings  towards 
me. 

Be  pleased  to  accept,  Monsieur  le  comte,  an  assur- 
ance of  the  very  lively  sentiments  that  I  feel  for  you, 
of  which  I  trust  I  may  some  day  offer  you  the  proof.1 

ALEX.    DUMAS. 
NAPLES,  August  23,  1835. 

While  I  was  writing,  the  anchor  was  raised  and  the 
rowers  ranged  themselves  to  starboard  and  larboard, 
oars  in  hand,  all  ready  to  start.  I  asked  the  captain 
for  a  safe  man  to  carry  my  letter  to  the  post;  he 
directed  me  to  one  of  the  spectators  assembled  to  see 
us  off',  who,  he  said,  was  an  acquaintance  of  his. 
I  passed  him  the  letter,  accompanied  by  two  carlini, 

1  That  proof  was  delayed  until  18 II,  the  period  at  which  I  pub- 
lished the  first  edition  of  this  book.  But,  as  the  reader  will 
have  seen,  I  have  made  up  in  it  for  time  lost,  and  I  hope  that 
M.  le  Comte  de  Ludorf,  who  may  have  accused  me  of  forget- 
fulness,  will  correct  that  error  in  relation  to  me,  if  by 
chance  these  pages  should  have  the  honour  to  come  before 
his  eyes.  —  A.  D. 


24  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

by  means  of  a  long  fishing-rod,  and  I  had  the  satis- 
faction of  seeing  my  messenger  scamper  at  top  speed 
in  the  direction  of  the  post-office. 

I  then  gave  the  signal  for  departure.  The  eight 
oars  which  the  men  held  erect  in  the  air,  fell  together 
and  struck  the  water  at  the  same  instant.  Ten 
minutes  later  we  were  out  of  the  harbour,  and  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  later  we  were  shaking  out  our 
lesser  sails  to  an  excellent  wind  oft'  shore,  which 
promised  to  put  me  rapidly  out  of  reach  of  the 
Neapolitan  agents  whom  the  Cointe  de  Ludorf  would 
probably  set  upon  my  traces. 

The  good  wind  accompanied  us  for  some  twenty  or 
thirty  miles,  but  just  beyond  Sorrento  it  slackened, 
and  presently  fell  altogether,  so  that  we  were  forced 
to  have  recourse  to  the  oars.  This  gave  us  time  to 
perceive  that  the  sea-breeze  had  given  us  an  appetite. 
Consequently,  being  well  disposed  to  appreciate  the 
good  qualities  of  M.  Martin  Zir's  protege*,  we  called, 
in  our  finest  bass  voice,  for  Cama.  No  one  an- 
swered. Uneasy  at  his  silence,  we  sent  Pietro  and 
Giovanni  in  search  of  him,  and  five  minutes  later 
we  saw  him  appear  at  the  orifice  of  the  hatchway, 
pale  as  a  ghost,  supported  under  each  arm  bv  the 
men  we  had  sent  to  fetch  him,  who  h-id  found  him 
stretched  motionless  among  his  ducks  and  chickens. 
It  was  evidently  impossible  for  the  poor  devil  to 
attend  to  our  orders.  He  could  n't  stand  upon  his 
legs,  and  he  turned  his  eyes  in  a  lamentable  manner. 
Thinking  that  the  air  would  do  him  good,  we  had 
a  mattress  brought  on  deck  and  laid  him  upon  it 
at  the  foot  of  the  mast.  We  were  looking  at  each 


THE   SPERONARA  25 

other,  Jadin  and  I,  with  a  disconcerted  air,  when 
Giovanni  put  himself  at  our  orders,  offering  to  take 
the  place,  for  a  time  at  least,  of  our  poor  appux- 
slonato. 

We  promptly  accepted  the  proposal.  The  cap- 
tain, who  was  not  proud,  at  once  took  the  oar  that 
Giovanni  abandoned.  Five  minutes  had  not  elapsed 
before  we  heard  the  moans  of  a  strangling  fowl ; 
presently  we  saw  smoke  escaping  up  the  hatchway; 
next  came  the  sound  of  oil  siz/ling  over  the  (ire ;  and 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  later  we  each  had  our  share  of 
a  poulet  a  la  Pnrccn^nle^  which,  thanks  to  the  above- 
named  appetite,  we  found  excellent. 

Towards  two  o'clock  we  were  off  the  island  of 
Capri.  As  in  losing  our  time  we  lost  but  little,  in- 
asmuch as  the  unceasing  toil  of  our  rowers  could 
make  us  do  no  more  than  half  a  league  an  hour,  I 
proposed  to  Jadin  to  land,  and  visit  the  island  of 
Tiberius  and  the  ruins  of  his  palace,  which  we  could 
see  from  below  about  one  third  up  the  path  to  Monte 
Solaro.  Jadin  accepted  heartily,  thinking  there 
would  surely  be  some  fine  view  to  sketch.  The 
captain,  informed  of  our  intentions,  headed  the 
speronura  for  the  island,  and  an  hour  later  we  en- 
tered the  port. 


II 

CAPRI.    LA  BURRASCA 

THERE  are  few  places  in  the  world  that  offer 
so  manv  historical  memories  as  Capri,  It 
was  onlv  an  island  like  other  islands,  more  smil- 
ing, perhaps,  and  that  was  all,  when  Augustus 
resolved  one  day  to  make  a  trip  to  it.  At  the  mo- 
ment of  his  landing,  an  old  oak,  the  sap  of  which 
seemed  shrivelled  forever,  lifted  its  withered  branches 
alreadv  pendent  to  the  soil  and  burst  incontinent!  v 
into  buds  and  leafage,  Augustus  was  a  man  of 
omens ;  he  was  so  enchanted  with  this  particular  one 
that  he  proposed  to  the  Neapolitans  to  give  them 
the  island  of  CEnaria  if  the  v  would  cede  him  that  of 
Capri.  The  offer  was  accepted.  Augustus  made 
Capri  a  region  of  delight,  lived  there  four  rears,  and 
when  he  died  bequeathed  the  island  to  Tiberius, 

Tiberius,  in  his  turn,  retired  there,  much  as  an  old 
tiger  slinks  into  his  lair  when  he  feels  he  is  dying. 
There  alone,  surrounded  by  vessels  that  guarded 
him  day  and  night,  did  he  feel  himself  safe  from 
daggers  and  poison.  On  those  rocks  where  to-day 
there  are  but  ruins,  rose  then  a  dozen  imperial  villas, 
bearing  the  names  of  the  twelve  great  gods  of  Olym- 
pus, Each  of  them,  supported  on  marble  columns  the 
gilded  capitals  of  which  bore  up  the  agate  friezes, 


TIIK  8PERONAHA  27 

nerved  the  emperor  for  a  fortre**  residence  for  one 
month  of  the  year;  in  all  were  burin*  of  porphyry, 
where  the  nil  very  h'she*  of  the  (jangex  hparklf-d ; 
pavements  of  mosaic,  the  design*  of  which  were 
former!  by  opals,  emerald*,  anrl  ruble*;  deep  anrl 
w-cret  bath*  where  laMcivioil*  picture*  excited  terrible 
de#ire*,  recalling  unheard-of  exceweft.  Around  these 
villas,  on  the  Hanks  of  the  mountain,  bare  to-day, 
rose  then  two  cedar  fore*!,*  anrl  grove*  of  orange - 
trce*,  where  handsome  youth*  and  beautiful  young 
girl*,  di*gui*ed  a*  faun*  and  dryad*,  wttyr*,  and 
bacchante*,  wirif^  hymn*  tx>  V'enu*,  while  invisible 
iiwtrument«  accompanied  their  arnorou*  voir-f^.  Anrl 
when  the  night,  one  of  tho*e  transparent,  *t-irry 
night*  Kuch  a*  the  Ka*t  alone  <^tn  make  for  love, 
came  down  upon  the  sleeping  >*ea;  when  the  balmv 
bree/e  blowing  from  Sr^rrento  or  Pompeii  mingled 
with  the  perfume*  that  children,  clothed  an  Cupid.*, 
burner!  on  golden  tripod.* ;  when  crie*  voluptuous, 
harmonies  mvNteriouw,  *igh*  half-*tiflerl  quivererl  v;tgue 
anrl  confuted,  as  though  the  amorou*  i*le  w«Te 
thrilling  with  delight  in  the  arm*  of  her  briny  god ; 
a  mighty  pharos  flan-rl  forth  like  a  nocturnal  nun. 
Soon,  bv  its  gleam  could  be  *eeri,  i**uing  from  */rtne 
grotto  and  walking  along  the  *hore  U.-twerti  'i"bra- 
Kvllu.%  the  astrologer,  and  Chariciex,  the  physician, 
an  old  man  clothed  in  purple,  with  bent  and  *tiffened 
neck  arid  silent,  glrxuriy  vivige,  shaking  from  time  to 
time  a  rna**  of  HiKery  hair  th/»t  fell  undulating,  like 
the  mane  of  a  lion,  on  his  heavy  *hrnjirl«rr*.  A  few 
*low,  drawling  word.*  dropped  from  his  lifw,  while 
his  li/trid,  with  effeminate  gesture,  caro-i^l  the  h^^*/l 


28  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

of  a  snake  that  slept  on  his  bosom.  Those  words, 
they  were  Greek  verses  he  was  then  composing ;  they 
were  orders  for  secret  debauchery  in  the  villa  of 
Jupiter  or  of  Ceres;  they  were  sentences  to  death, 
which,  on  the  morrow,  would  fly  with  lateen  sails  to 
Ostia  and  terrify  Rome  ;  for  this  old  man  was  the 
third  C;csar,  the  divine  Tiberius,  the  emperor  with 
savage  eyes,  like  those  of  a  cat,  a  wolf,  an  hyena, 
eyes  that  saw  clear  in  darkness. 

To-dav,  of  all  these  magnificences  nothing  remains 

•    *  *J  ~ 

but  wreck  and  ruin  ;  but,  more  indestructible  than 
stone  or  marble,  the  memory  of  that  old  emperor 
is  left  entire.  One  might  fancy,  so  much  his  name 
is  still  on  every  tongue,  that  it  was  but  yesterday 
they  laid  him  in  the  parricidal  grave  Caligula  pre- 
pared for  him  and  into  which  Marconius  pushed  him. 
One  might  even  say  that  in  default  of  his  body,  men 
tremble  still  before  his  shade;  for  the  inhabitants  of 
Capri  and  Anacapri,  the  towns  of  the  isle,  show  the 
remains  of  his  palaces  with  as  much  awe  as  that  with 
which  they  point  to  the  slumbering  volcano  which, 
on  any  day,  at  any  hour,  at  every  minute  may  awake, 
more  deadly,  more  devouring  than  ever. 

The  two  towns  arc  situated,  Capri,  in  an  amphi- 
theatre l)cfore  the  little  harbour,  Anacapri  at  the 
.summit  of  Monte  Solaro.  A  stairway  of  five  or  six 
hundred  steps,  roughly  cut  into  the  rock,  leads  from 
the  first  to  the  second  of  these  towns.  The  fatigue 
of  this  toilsome  ascension  is  largely  repaid,  I  must 
sav,  bv  the  splendid  panorama  which  the  eye  takes  in 
when  the  summit  is  attained.  The  traveller,  facing 
Naples,  sees  I'iestum  first  on  his  right,  voluptuous 


THE  SPERONARA  29 

daughter  of  Greece,  whose  roses,  blooming  twice  each 
year  in  an  air  that  was  fatal  to  virginity,  were  culled 
to  fade  on  the  brow  of  Horace  and  drop  their  leaves 
on  the  bible  of  Msecenas  ;  then  Sorrento,  where  each 
passing  bree/e  bears  away  with  it  the  leaves  of  the 
orange  and  the  lemon  flowers,  to  scatter  them  afar 
upon  the  sea ;  then  Pompeii,  sleeping  in  her  ashes 
and  waking  at  times  like  some  old  ruin  of  Egypt, 
with  her  ardent  pictures,  her  lachrymal  vases,  and 
her  mortuary  fillets  ;  and,  lastly,  Herculaneum,  who, 
overtaken  one  day  by  the  lava,  shrieked,  and  writhed, 
and  died  like  Laocoon  in  the  coils  of  the  serpents. 
Then  comes  Naples  —  for  Torre  del  Greco,  Hesina, 
and  Portici  arc,  to  tell  the  truth,  mere  suburbs  — 
Naples,  the  la/y  city,  lying  in  the  lap  of  her  circling 
mountains  and  stretching  her  little  feet  to  the  warm 
and  wanton  waves  of  her  gulf.  Then,  after  Naples, 
the  eye  turns  leftward,  to  Po/zuoli  with  its  temple 
of  Serapis,  half  hidden  in  the  water  ;  to  Cumze,  most 
ancient  of  all  the  Grecian-Italian  cities,  with  her 
mysterious,  sibylline  grotto,  where  the  pious  yEneas 
l.inded ;  to  the  gulf,  where  Caligula,  emulating 
Xerxes,  flung  a  bridge  a  league  long,  still  percep- 
tible among  the' ruins  ;  to  IJauli  whence  sailed  that 
imperial  galley  prepared  by  Nero  to  open  beneath 
the  feet  of  Agrippina  ;  and  finally,  to  Bai:r,  so  fatal 
to  chaste  lovers,  and  Misenum,  where  the  trum|)eter 
of  ./Eneas  lies  buried,  and  where  Pliny  the  elder 
went  to  die,  smothered  in  his  library  by  the  ashes  of 
Stabia. 

Imagine  the  picture  now  described,  illumined  by 
the  pharos  that  is  called  Vesuvius,  and  tell   me  if 


30  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

there  be  in  all  the  world  aught  that  can  compare 
with  such  a  spectacle. 

I  took  this  walk  alone.  Jadin  had  found  a  view 
to  sketch  and  stopped  at  a  third  of  the  steep  way  up. 
Coming  down  I  rejoined  him,  and  we  returned  to- 
gether to  the  little  port.  There  we  were  surrounded 
by  a  score  of  boatmen,  each  determined  to  carry  one 
or  other  of  us  off  with  him.  These  were  the  guides 
to  the  Blue  Grotto.  As  no  one  can  come  to  Capri 
without  seeing  the  Blue  Grotto  —  Grotto  Azzurra 
—  I  chose  one  man  and  Jadin  another,  because 
each  traveller  must  have  a  boat  and  a  boatman,  the 
entrance  being  so  low  and  narrow  that  only  the 
slenderest  wherry  can  enter  it. 

The  sea  was  calm,  but  it  always  breaks,  even  in 
the  finest  weather,  with  such  force  against  the 
girdle  of  rocks  which  surrounds  the  island  that  our 
boats  bounded  as  if  in  a  tempest  and  we  were  forced 
to  cling  tightly  to  the  thwarts  for  fear  of  being 
flung  into  the  sea.  At  last,  after  rowing  for  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  and  doing  at  least  one-sixth  of 
the  circumference  of  the  isle,  our  boatmen  told  us  we 
had  arrived.  We  looked  about ;  not  the  slightest 
appearance  of  the  smallest  of  grottoes  did  we  see  un- 
til they  showed  us  a  round  black  speck,  scarcelv  vis- 
ible above  the  foam  of  the  waves ;  this,  they  said, 
was  the  orifice  of  the  cave. 

The  first  sight  of  that  entrance  is  not  reassuring; 
it  seems  incomprehensible  how  to  pass  through  it 
without  crushing  one's  head.  As  that  question  ap- 
peared to  us  of  sufficient  importance  to  discuss,  we  laid 
it  before  our  boatmen.  They  said  we  were  perfectly 


THE   SPERONAUA  31 

right  if  we  remained  seated,  but,  by  lying  flat  in  the 
boat  we  escaped  all  danger.  Jadin  and  I  had  not 
come  so  far  to  balk.  I  set  the  example;  my  boat- 
man advanced,  rowing  with  precautions  which  showed 
plainly  that  however  used  he  might  be  to  the  opera- 
tion he  did  not  consider  it  exempt  from  danger.  As 
for  me,  in  my  then  position,  I  could  see  nothing  but 
the  sky;  presently  I  felt  myself  lifted  on  a  wave,  the 
boat  gliding  rapidly,  and  I  saw  a  rock  above  me  that 
seemed  about  to  crush  my  breast.  Then,  all  of  a 
sudden,  I  found  myself  in  so  wonderful  a  grotto  that 
I  uttered  a  cry  of  astonishment  and  sprang  up  so 
hastily  to  look  about  me  that  I  nearly  upset  the 
wherry. 

Before  me,  around  me,  above  me,  beneath  me,  be- 
hind me,  were  marvels  of  which  no  words  can  give 
an  idea,  and  before  which  the  artist's  brush  itself, 
that  great  transmitter  of  human  recollections,  is 
powerless.  Imagine  a  vast  azure  cavern,  all  a/ure, 
as  if  God  had  pleased  himself  by  making  a  tent  of  a 
bit  of  the  firmament ;  water  so  limpid,  so  transparent, 
so  pure,  that  we  seemed  to  l>e  floating  on  a  substance 
of  air;  stalactites  pendent  from  the  roof  like  pyra- 
mids reversed ;  in  the  depths  a  golden  sand 
mingled  with  many  submarine  vegetations:  along 

V  O 

the  walls,  bathed  softly  by  the  water,  bunches  of 
coral  with  capricious  glittering  branches ;  on  the 
sea  side  a  speck,  a  star,  through  which  came  the 
glimmering  light  that  illumined  this  fairy  palace; 
and  directly  opposite,  a  species  of  throne  for  the  sump- 
tuous goddess,  whoever  she  was,  who  had  chosen  for 
her  bathroom  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world. 


32  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

Suddenly  the  grotto  darkened,  like  the  earth  on  a 
splendid  day  when  a  cloud  flits  across  the  sun.  It 
was  Jadin  entering  the  cavern,  the  orifice  of  which 
was  closed  by  his  boat.  Presently  it  was  floated 
beside  me  by  the  force  of  the  wave  that  lifted  it  to 
the  entrance,  the  grotto  resumed  its  beautiful  azure 
colour,  and  the  boat  stopped,  trembling,  near  mine ; 
for  this  sea,  so  noisy  and  tumultuous  without,  had 
the  gentle,  silent  respiration  of  a  lake  within. 

According  to  all  probability  the  Blue  Grotto  was 
unknown  to  the  ancients.  No  poet  speaks  of  it,  and 
certainly  the  Greeks  with  their  marvellous  imagi- 
nation would  never  have  missed  making  it  the  palace 
of  some  marine  goddess  with  melodious  name,  whose 
history  they  would  surely  have  left  us.  Suetonius, 
who  descril>es  with  such  detail  the  baths  and  thermae 
of  Tiberius,  would  not  have  failed  to  give  a  few 
words  to  this  natural  pool,  which  the  old  emperor 
would  doubtless  have  chosen  as  the  scene  of  some 
monstrous  pleasure.  No,  the  tides  were  perhaps 
higher  in  those  days  than  they  are  now,  and  this 
marvel  of  the  deep  was  known  only  to  Amphitrite 
and  her  court  of  sirens,  naiads,  and  tritons. 

But  sometimes,  like  Diana  overtaken  by  Acta?on, 
Amphitrite  is  angered  by  the  indiscreet  travellers 
who  pursue  her  in  this  a/ure  retreat.  Then,  in  a 
moment,  the  sea  rises  and  shuts  the  orifice,  so  that 
those  within  can  no  longer  get  out.  In  that  case, 
they  must  wait  till  the  wind,  that  has  veered  of  a 
sudden  from  east  to  west,  comes  round  to  the  south- 
ward. It  has  sometimes  happened  that  visitors  going 
to  the  grotto  for  twenty  minutes  have  stayed  there 


THE   SPERONARA  33 

two,  three,  and  even  four  days.  Consequently  the 
boatmen,  providing  for  such  accidents,  always  carry 
with  them  a  certain  quantity  of  a  species  of  biscuit 
to  feed  the  prisoners.  As  for  water,  it  filters  into 
the  grotto  at  two  or  three  points  with  sufficient 
abundance,  so  that  no  fear  need  be  felt  on  the  score 
of  thirst.  I  blamed  my  boatman  a  little  for  having 
delayed  informing  me  of  a  fact  so  disquieting;  but 
he  answered  with  charming  naivete  : 

"  Ma  che!  eccellenza,  if  we  told  it  at  first  half  the 
travellers  would  not  go,  and  that  would  be  bad  for 
the  boatmen." 

I  own  that  this  little  circumstance  gave  me  a  cer- 
tain uneasiness  and  made  me  think  the  Blue  Grotto 
less  charming  than  it  seemed  at  first.  Unluckily,  our 
boatmen  had  given  us  these  details  just  as  we  were 
taking  off  our  clothes  to  bathe  in  that  azure  water, 
so  beautiful,  so  transparent  that  it  needs  no  Undine 
of  Goethe's  to  entice  the  fisher.  We  were  not  will- 
ing to  abandon  the  preparations  we  had  made,  so  we 
completed  those  that  were  still  to  make  in  all  haste, 
and  each  took  a  header  into  the  water. 

Not  until  one  is  five  or  six  feet  Inflow  the  surface 
can  the  incredible  purity  of  the  water  be  appreciated. 
In  spite  of  the  veil  that  wraps  the  diver  not  a  detail 
escapes  him  ;  he  sees  as  clearly  as  through  the  air 
the  smallest  shell  on  the  sand  or  the  slenderest  stalac- 
tite from  the  roof;  only,  each  thing  takes  a  darker 
tint.  At  the  end  of  fifteen  minutes  we  returned  to 
our  boats  and  dressed,  without  having  allured,  so  far 
as  we  could  see,  any  of  the  invisible  nvmphs  of  that 
humid  palace  who,  had  it  been  otherwise,  would  surely 


34  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

not  have  failed  to  detain  us  for  twenty-four  hours 
at  the  least.  This  was  humiliating ;  but  as  neither 
of  us  assumed  to  be  Telemachus  we  accepted  the  sit- 
uation. Again  we  lay  down  in  the  bottom  of  our 
respective  boats  and  left  the  Azure  Grotto  with  the 
same  precautions  and  the  same  good  luck  with  which 
we  had  entered  it ;  except  that  we  were  fully  six 
minutes  unable  to  open  our  eyes;  the  dazzling 
brightness  of  the  sun  now  blinded  us.  We  were 
scarcely  a  furlong  distant  when  all  that  we  had  just 
seen  became  the  mere  fabric  of  a  dream. 

We  returned  to  the  port  of  Capri.  While  settling 
our  account  with  the  boatmen,  Pietro  pointed  out  to 
us  a  man  lying  in  the  sunshine  with  his  face  in  the 
sand.  He  was  the  fisherman  who,  nine  or  ten  veal's 
earlier,  had  discovered  the  Blue  Grotto  while  search- 
ing for  mussels  among  the  rocks.  He  went  at  once 
to  the  authorities  of  the  island,  told  them  of  his 
discovery,  and  asked  for  the  privilege  of  alone  con- 
ducting travellers  into  the  new  world  he  had  found, 
or  else  a  toll  upon  the  pay  of  others  who  might 
do  so.  The  authorities,  seeing  in  this  discovery  a 
means  of  attracting  strangers  to  their  isle,  acceded  to 
his  second  proposition  ;  so  that  since  that  time  this 
second  Christopher  Columbus  lives  on  his  income, 
which  he  takes  no  trouble  to  acquire,  for  it  comes  to 
him,  as  we  saw,  when  sleeping.  He  was  the  personage 
uhose  fate  was  most  envied  throughout  the  island. 

Having  seen  all  that  Capri  offered  of  chief  interest 
we  got  into  our  own  boat  and  returned  to  the  spero- 
nara,  which,  profiting  by  a  few  puff's  of  the  land  breeze, 
hoisted  sail  and  headed  gently  for  Palermo. 


THE  SPERONARA  35 

But  soon  the  weather  changed  ;  the  sky  seemed 
covered  by  some  vast  gray  texture  on  which  stood 
out  in  darker  gray  and  brown  a  heavy  cloud  advanc- 
ing rapidly  from  the  south  to  meet  us.  From  time 
to  time  light  puffs  of  wind  filled  our  sails,  which  were 
spread  to  profit  by  them,  because  coining  from  the 
eastward,  they  were  favourable  for  taking  us  to 
Palermo.  But  soon,  whether  these  puffs  died  away, 
or  because  the  first  breath  of  a  contrary  wind  coining 
from  Sicily,  began  to  flatten  our  great  sail  against  the 
mast,  the  pilot  suddenly  gave  orders  to  furl  it.  When 
the  weather  was  threatening  the  captain  instantly  re- 
signed, as  I  think  I  have  already  said,  his  powers  to 
old  Nun/io,  and  became  himself  the  first  and  most 
docile  of  the  crew.  So  when  the  pilot  called  out  to 
clear  the  deck  he  was  the  most  active  of  them  all  in 
removing  our  table  and  in  helping  Jadin  to  bring 
into  the  cabin  his  stool  and  his  drawing-boards. 

During  this  time  the  sky  grew  darker  still  and  the 
atmosphere  gave  every  sign  of  a  coming  storm.  Our 
sailors,  without  being  warned  in  any  way  of  danger, 
this  being  their  hour  for  sleeping,  awoke  as  if  by 
instinct  and  came  on  deck,  one  after  another,  through 
the  forward  hatch,  their  noses  in  the  air  snuffing  the 
wind  ;  then  they  lined  up  on  deck,  winked  at  one 
another  with  a  nod  that  surely  meant  to  say,  "  It  is 
coming — hot!"  Still  silent,  some  of  them  rolled 
up  their  sleeves,  others  threw  off'  their  shirts.  Filippo 
alone  sat  still  on  the  edge  of  the  hatch,  his  legs 
dangling  down  into  the  hold,  his  chin  resting  on  his 
hand  as  he  ga/ed  at  the  sky  with  his  impassible  face 
and  whistled  from  habit  the  tarantella.  But  this 


36  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

time  Pietro  was  deaf  to  that  provocative  air,  and  even 
old  Nunzio  seemed  to  think  its  monotonous  melody 
untimely,  for  mounting  the  bulwark  without  letting 
go  of  the  helm,  he  raised  his  head  above  the  cabin 
roof  and  said,  addressing  the  crew  as  though  he  did 
not  see  the  musician :  "  With  permission  of  the 
signore,  who  is  that  whistling  now  ? "" 

"  I  think  it  is  me,  old  man,"  replied  Filippo, "  but, 
God's  truth,  I  was  if  t  thinking  what  I  did." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Nunzio,  disappearing  behind 
the  cabin.  Filippo  did  not  whistle  again. 

The  sea,  though  still  calm,  was  visibly  changing  in 
colour.  From  the  azure  blue  it  had  l)cen  all  dav,  it 
was  now  becoming  an  ashen  gray.  On  its  tarnished 
mirror  great  air-bubbles  were  bursting  that  seemed 
to  rise,  like  sighs,  from  the  depths  of  its  bosom  to 
its  surface.  From  time  to  time  the  passing  squalls, 
that  sailors  call  "  eats-paws,"  scratched  the  sombre 
water  and  left  upon  it  lines  of  gleaming  foam,  as  if 
some  invisible  hand  had  beaten  it  with  rods.  Our 
speronara,  having  no  wind,  and  Ix-ing  no  longer 
rowed  bv  the  sailors,  was,  if  not  motionless,  at  any 
rate  stationary,  swaying  in  the  swell  which  was  just 
beginning  to  make  itself  felt.  There  was  now  one 

o  o 

quarter  of  an  hour  of  total  silence ;  all  the  more 
solemn  because  the  mist  that  gathered  round  us  had, 
little  by  little,  hidden  the  shore,  and  we  knew  that 
we  were  about  to  face  the  tempest  thus  solemnly  an- 
nouncing itself,  not  in  a  ship,  but  in  a  mere  little 
fishing-boat.  I  looked  at  our  men  ;  they  were  all  on 
deck,  ready  for  action  and  calm,  but  their  calmness 
was  that  of  resolution  not  of  security. 


THE  SPERONARA  37 

"Captain,"  I  said,  going  up  to  him,  "do  not  for- 
get that  we  are  men ;  if  the  danger  becomes  real,  let 
us  know  it." 

"  Be  sure  of  that,"  replied  the  captain. 

"  Well,  poor  Milord ! "  said  Jadin,  giving  his  bull- 
dog a  pat  that  might  have  killed  an  ordinary  dog,  "  we 
are  to  SL>C  a  little  tempest ;  does  that  please  you, 
hey?" 

Milord  responded  with  a  low,  prolonged  howl,  which 
proved  that  he  was  not  indifferent  to  the  passing 
scene,  and  that  instinctively  he,  toj,  smelt  danger. 

"  The  mistral ! "  shouted  the  pilot,  raising  his 
head  above  the  cabin  roof. 

Instantly  every  eye  was  fixed  on  the  wake.  We 
saw,  if  I  may  say  so,  the  coming  of  the  wind ;  a  line 
of  foam  ran  before  it,  and  behind  that  line  we  saw 
the  sea  beginning  to  rise  in  billows.  The  sailors 
sprang,  some  to  the  bowsprit,  some  to  the  little 
mizzen-mast,  to  set  the  jib  and  also  a  triangular 
sail,  the  name  of  which  I  did  not  know,  but  it 
seemed  to  correspond  to  the  mainsail  of  larger  ships. 
During  this  time  the  mistral  was  coming  down  upon 
us  like  a  race-horse,  preceded  by  a  hissing  that  was 
not  without  some  majesty.  We  felt  it  pass;  then 
instantly  our  little  vessel  shuddered,  her  sails  swelled 
as  if  to  burst,  she  plunged  her  prow  into  the  sea, 
cleaving  it  like  a  ploughshare,  and  we  felt  ourselves 
borne  along  as  a  feather  in  the  wind. 

"But,"  I  said  to  the  captain,  "  I  thought  that  in 
such  heavy  weather,  instead  of  giving  chances  to  the 
gale,  as  we  are  doing,  it  was  usu.d  to  lower  the  sails. 
How  is  it  we  are  not  doiii"  as  uuial?" 


38  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  Oh ! "  he  replied,  "  we  have  not  got  to  that  point 
yet ;  the  wind  now  blowing  is  fair,  and  if  it  will  only 
hold  for  twelve  hours,  at  the  thirteenth  we  shall  not 
be  far  —  I  will  not  say  from  Palermo,  but  —  from 
Messina.  Are  you  very  anxious  to  go  to  Palermo 
before  you  go  to  Messina  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  am  anxious  to  go  to  Sicily,  and  that 's 
all.  So  you  say  that  the  wind  we  are  now  having 
is  good?" 

"  Excellent ;  but  the  misfortune  is  it  has  a  mortal 
enemy  —  the  sirocco ;  and  as  the  sirocco  comes  from 
the  southeast  and  the  mistral  from  the  northwest, 
if  they  happen  to  meet  before  long  there'll  be  a 
pretty  battle.  Meantime,  we  must  profit  by  that 
which  God  has  sent  us  to  make  as  much  way  as 
possible." 

And  in  truth  our  speronara  was  going  like  an 
arrow,  making  great  flocks  of  foam  fly  from  her 
flanks.  The  weather  grew  worse  and  worse ;  clouds 
seemed  to  leave  the  sky  and  lower  upon  the  sea  ; 
great  drops  of  rain  began  to  fall. 

We  made  thus,  in  less  than  an  hour,  about  nine 
or  ten  miles ;  but  the  rain  became  so  violent  that 
much  as  we  wished  to  stay  on  deck,  we  were  forced 
to  take  refuge  in  our  cabin.  As  we  passed  near  the 
after-hatchway  we  saw  our  cook  rolling  among  a 
dozen  casks  or  barrels  as  perfectly  unconscious  as  if 
he  were  dead.  From  the  moment  he  set  foot  on 
board,  sea-sickness  caught  him,  and  at  the  hour 
of  meals  we  had  so  far  obtained  nothing  from  him 
but  heart-rending  groans  about  the  folly  of  ever 
embarking. 


THE  SPERONARA  39 

We  returned  to  the  cabin  and  flung  ourselves  on 
our  mattresses.  Milord,  now  meek  as  a  lamb,  fol- 
lowed his  master  with  his  head  and  his  tail  between 
his  legs.  But  hardly  had  we  entered  before  we  heard 
a  great  uproar  on  deck,  and  the  words,  "  Burrasca ! 
burrasca!"  shouted  by  the  pilot,  attracted  our  atten- 
tion. At  the  same  instant  our  little  vessel  began 
to  dance  in  so  singular  a  manner  that  I  knew  the 
sirocco  and  the  mistral  had  met,  and  that  those  two 
old  enemies  were  fighting  on  our  back.  Thunder 
now  took  part  in  the  fray,  and  we  heard  its  rumble 
above  the  infernal  uproar  of  the  winds,  the  waves, 
and  our  sailors.  Suddenly,  commanding  this  clamour 
of  men  and  sea  and  wind  and  thunder,  the  voice  of 
the  pilot  was  heard  shouting,  in  those  tones  that 
mean  instantaneous  obedience  :  "  Tutto  a  basso  ! "  — 
"  Down  with  all !  " 

The  deck  resounded  with  the  steps  of  our  sailors 
and  with  their  shouto  to  excite  one  another ;  but, 
in  spite  of  the  good-will  they  gave  to  their  work,  the 
speronara  leaned  over  so  much  to  larboard  that, 
unable  to  keep  my  balance  at  an  angle  of  forty-five 
degrees,  I  rolled  upon  Jadin.  We  then  compre- 
hended that  something  unusual  was  happening,  and 
we  sprang  to  the  door  of  the  cabin  ;  a  wave  which 
rushed  to  enter  as  we  were  leaving  it  confirmed  this 
opinion ;  but  we  clung  to  the  door  and  maintained 
our  position  in  spite  of  the  shock.  Though  it  was 
only  five  or  six  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  absolutely 
nothing  could  be  seen,  the  darkness  was  so  black,  the 
rain  so  heavy.  We  called  to  the  captain  to  know 
what  was  happening;  the  answer  came  only  in  be- 


40  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

wildering  shouts.  A  peal  of  awful  thunder  was 
heard,  the  heavens  appeared  to  burst  into  flame 
and  open,  and  we  saw  our  men,  from  the  captain 
to  the  cabin  boy,  struggling  to  lower  the  large  sail, 
while  the  wet  ropes,  refusing  to  run  through  the 
blocks,  defeated  them.  During  this  time  the 
schooner  heeled  over  more  and  more  until  she  was 
literally  running  on  her  flank  and  the  tip  of  her 
boom  was  in  the  water. 

"Down!  down!"  shouted  the  pilot  in  a  voice 
that  showed  there  was  no  time  to  lose:  "In  God's 
name  !  down  all !  " 

"  Cut !  cut !  "  cried  the  captain.  "  There  ""s  canvas 
in  Messina,  pardieu!"" 

At  that  instant  we  saw  a  man  fly,  as  it  were, 
above  our  heads ;  that  man,  or  rather  that  shadow 
sprang  from  the  roof  of  the  cabin  to  the  bulwark, 
from  the  bulwark  to  the  spar,  and  we  heard  the  little 
shriek  of  a  parting  rope.  The  sail,  taut  and  swell- 
ing as  it  had  been,  now  flew  loose,  tearing  itself 
from  the  bonds  that  held  it  to  the  spar.  Checked 
for  an  instant  by  the  last  link,  it  floated  like  an  im- 
mense banner  from  the  end  of  the  boom,  and  then, 
that  last  obstacle  yielding  like  the  rest,  the  sail  dis- 
appeared, like  a  white  cloud  driven  by  the  wind,  in 
the  depths  of  the  murky  heavens.  The  speronura 
righted,  and  all  the  crew  gave  a  shout  of  joy. 

As  for  the  pilot,  he  had  already  returned  to  his 
post  and  was  seated  by  his  tiller. 

"Faith!"  said  the  captain,  coming  up  to  me, 
"  We've  made  a  fine  escape.  I  thought  for  a  minute 
we  were  going  to  turn  heels  over  head,  and  without 


THE   SPERONARA  41 

the  old  man,  who  was  there  in  the  nick  of  time,  I 
don't  know  what  would  have  happened.11 

"  Tell  me,  captain,"  I  said.  "  I  think  he  well 
deserves  a  bottle  of  Bordeaux  wine ;  can  I  send  it 
to  him?11 

"  To-morrow,  not  to-night ;  to-night  not  n  single 
glass;  we  want  his  whole  head,  don't  you  see ;  it  is 
God  who  sends  us,  but  it  is  he  who  pilots  us,  and  we 
are  not  at  Messina  yet.11 

"  It  seems  to  me,11  said  Jadin,  "  that  the  storm  is 
over." 

In  fact,  at  that  moment  there  was  truce  between 
the  mistral  and  the  sirocco,  so  that  the  vessel  was 
decidedly  more  tranquil,  though  she  still  had  the 
quivering  air  of  a  frightened  horse.  The  captain 
mounted  a  bench  and  exchanged  a  few  words  over 
the  roof  of  the  cabin  with  the  pilot. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  the  latter,  "  no  harm  in  that, 
though  we  shall  not  be  quiet  very  long.  Yes,  that 
will  help  us  to  gain  a  mile  or  two." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Profit  by  a  lucky  moment  to  make  a  little  way 
by  rowing.  Ohe  !  children,"  he  continued,  "  the 
oars  !  to  the  oars  !  " 

The  sailors  sprang  to  them,  pushing  them  over  the 
gunwale  like  the  paws  of  some  gigantic  animal,  and 
beginning  to  boat  the  sea.  At  the  first  dip  the  usual 
song  of  our  sailors  l>egan,  but  this  time,  after  the 
danger  we  had  just  run,  it  seemed  to  me  gentler, 
more  melancholy  than  before.  One  must  have  heard 
that  melody  under  like  circumstances  and  on  such  a 
night  to  form  an  idea  of  the  effect  it  produced  upon 


42  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

us.  These  men  who  sang  thus  between  a  passed 
danger  and  a  coining  one  were  a  sacred  and  living 
image  of  Faith. 

The  truce  lasted  half  an  hour,  or  nearly  that. 
Then  the  rain  began  to  fall  more  heavily  than 
ever,  the  thunder  growled,  the  heavens  opened  and 
flamed,  and  the  cry  already  heard,  "  Burrasca !  la 
burrasca  !""  echoed  once  more  from  behind  the  cabin. 
The  sailors  at  once  drew  in  their  oars,  laid  them 
along  the  deck,  and  prepared  to  work  the  ship. 

We  then  had  a  repetition  of  the  scene  I  have  just 
related,  minus  the  incident  of  the  sail,  but  plus  an 
event  that  took  its  place  with  a  certain  degree  of 
success.  We  were  just  at  the  height  of  the  tempest, 
bounding,  veering,  turning  about  at  the  h'tful  will  of 
winds  and  waves,  when  suddenly  a  huge,  fantastic, 
mvsterious  head  appeared  through  the  aperture  of 
the  after-hatchway,  absolutely  after  the  manner  in 
which  the  devil  comes  up  through  a  trap-door  at  the 
Opera,  and  after  crying  out  three  times,  "Aqua! 
aqua !  aqua ! "  sank  again  into  the  depths  of  the 
hold  below.  I  fancied  I  recognized  Giovanni. 

This  apparition  was  seen  not  by  me  only,  but  by 
the  whole  crew.  The  captain  said  two  words  to 
Pietro,  who  disappeared  in  his  turn  through  the 
hatchway.  A  second  later  he  returned  with  visible 
emotion  and  going  to  the  captain  murmured,  "  It 
is  true!" 

The  captain  came  to  us  at  once. 

"  Listen, ""  he  said,  "  it  seems  that  there  is  a  leak  in 
the  hold  ;  if  it  is  a  large  leak,  as  we  have  no  pumps, 
we  are  in  danger.  Do  not  keep  anything  on  you  but 


THE   SPERONARA  43 

your  trousers,  so  as  to  be  free  in  case  you  are  obliged 
to  jump  overboard.  In  that  case  sei/e  a  plank,  a 
barrel,  an  oar,  the  first  thing  that  comes  to  hand. 
We  are  in  the  main  track  from  Naples  to  Palermo ; 
some  vessel  will  pass,  and  we  shall  escape,  I  hope, 
with  a  bath  of  some  hours." 

And  the  captain,  thinking  that  these  words  needed 
no  comments  and  that  the  danger  needed  his 
presence,  disappeared  down  the  hatchway  himself, 
while  Jadin  and  I  retired  to  the  cabin,  where,  after 
providing  for  each  of  us  a  belt  containing  all  the 
gold  we  had  on  board,  we  proceeded  to  take  oft'  hats, 
coats,  boots,  and  shirts. 

When  we  reappeared  on  deck  in  our  swimming 
garb,  we  found  the  sailors  awaiting  silently  the  re- 
turn of  the  captain,  and  saw  the  pilot's  head  lifted 
above  the  roof  of  the  cabin,  proving  that  he  attached 
no  less  importance  than  the  crew  to  what  the  captain 
might  report. 

The  latter  came  up  laughing.  The  leak  was 
occasioned  by  a  cask  of  ice  which  we  had  brought 
from  Naples  to  cool  our  wine ;  the  rolling  of  the 
schooner  upset  it,  the  ice  melted,  and  it  was  this 
fro/en  water,  invading  the  mattress  of  poor  Cama 
the  cook,  which  had  terrified  him  for  a  moment  out 
of  his  torpor  and  brought  him  up  to  give  the  warn- 
ing cry  that  terrified  the  crew. 

This  burrasca  passed  oft'  like  the  first,  and  Jadin 
and  I,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and  excitement,  retired 
to  our  cabin  and  flung  ourselves  on  the  mattresses. 
I  don't  know  what  happened  to  Jadin,  but  I  myself 
was  asleep  in  ten  minutes. 


44  JOURNFA'S   WITH   DUMAS 

I  was  awakened  by  the  most  infernal  tumult  I  had 
ever  heard  in  my  life.  All  our  sailors  were  shouting 
at  once,  and  running  like  madmen  from  the  fore- 
castle aft,  passing  over  the  roof  of  the  cabin,  which 
cracked  under  their  feet  as  if  it  were  coming  down. 
I  tried  to  get  out,  but  the  motion  of  the  schooner 
was  so  violent  that  I  could  not  keep  my  legs,  and 
I  rolled  rather  than  walked  to  the  door,  where  I 
clung  so  tightly  that  I  managed  to  keep  myself 
standing. 

"What  the  devil  is  it  now?""  I  asked  Jadin,  who 
was  tranquilly  looking  at  the  scene  with  his  hands  in 
his  pockets  and  smoking  his  pipe. 

"  Oh  !  good  heavens  !  "  he  said,  "  nothing  at  all,  or 
next  to  nothing;  only  a  three-decker  trying  to  ride 
us  down  under  pretence  he  does  n't  see  us." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"There,"  replied  Jadin,  moving  his  hands  towards 
the  stern,  "  there,  don^t  you  see  him  ?" 

At  the  same  instant  I  saw,  looming  up  out  of  the 
sea  where  he  seemed  to  plunge,  the  giant  triton  who 
was  chasing  us.  He  rose  on  the  breast  of  a  wave  so 
that  he  commanded  the  speronara  as  an  old  castle 
commands  a  plain  from  its  mountain.  Nearly  at  the 
same  instant,  by  the  play,  as  it  were,  of  a  monstrous 
see-saw,  we  went  up  and  he  went  down,  so  that  we 
came  upon  the  level  of  his  topgallant-sails.  Then, 
for  the  first  time  no  doubt,  he  saw  us,  and  he  made  a 
movement  bearing  to  the  right  while  we  made  ours 
to  the  left.  He  passed  us  like  a  phantom  and  we 
heard  the  words :  "  Bon  voyage ! "  flung  to  us 
through  a  trumpet  from  his  poop.  Then  the  great 


THE  SPERONARA  45 

ship  rushed  on  like  a  race-horse  into  the  darkness 
and  disappeared. 

"  That  is  Admiral  Mollo, "  said  the  captain,  "  who 
is  no  doubt  going  to  Palermo  with  The  Ferdinand. 
It  was  high  time  he  saw  us,  faith !  Otherwise 
'twould  have  been  a  bad  lookout  for  us." 

"  Where  are  we  now,  captain  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  we  have  made  good  wav,  I  can  tell  you  ;  we 
are  among  the  Islands.  Look  out  on  this  side  and 
in  ten  minutes  you'll  see  the  flames  of  Stromboli." 

I  turned  in  the  direction  to  which  he  pointed,  and 
there,  before  the  time  he  fixed  had  expired,  I  saw 
the  whole  hori/on  take  on  a  ruddy  glow,  and  I  heard 
a  noise  something  like  that  of  a  battery  of  a  do/en 
cannon  fired  successivelv,  one  after  another.  It  was 
Stromboli,  —  to  us  a  beacon,  for  it  showed  the 
rapidity  with  which  we  were  moving.  When  I 
first  heard  the  sound  it  was  forward  of  the  vessel, 
soon  jt  was  on  our  right,  and  presently  behind  us. 
Meanwhile  it  was  almost  three  in  the  morning,  and 
day  began  to  dawn. 

Never  in  my  life  did  I  see  so  splendid  a  sight. 
Little  by  little  the  storm  had  ceased,  though  the 
mistral  continued  to  let  us  feel  it.  The  sea  was  once 
more  of  an  a/ure  blue,  presenting  an  image  of  moving 
Alps,  with  sombre  valleys  and  crests  of  mountains 
crowned  with  a  snow-white  foam.  Our  speronara, 
light  as  a  leaf,  was  swept  along  this  surface,  rising, 
descending,  rising  again  to  descend  again  with  terri- 
fying rapidity,  and  yet  with  supreme  intelligence. 
And  this  was  because  old  Nun/io  never  left  the 
tiller;  at  the  instant  when  one  of  the  liquid  moun- 


46  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

tains  swelled  up  astern,  rushing  onward  as  if  to 
engulf  us,  with  a  slight  motion  he  would  throw  the 
speronara  to  one  side  and  we  felt  the  huge  billow, 
sinking  momentarily  and  seething  beneath  us,  take 
us  gently  on  its  sturdy  shoulders  and  lift  us  to  its 
highest  crest ;  so  that  for  two  or  three  leagues  around 
we  were  able  to  look  down  upon  all  the  peaks  and  all 
the  valleys  of  that  watery  landscape.  Then,  sud- 
denly, the  mountain  sank  moaning  beneath  our  keel, 
we  ourselves  descended,  almost  vertically,  to  the 
bottom  of  a  gorge  where  we  could  see  nothing  but 
more  waves  ready  to  engulf  us,  although,  quite  the 
contrary,  as  if  they  were  at  the  orders  of  our  old 
pilot,  they  only  took  us  again  on  their  quivering 
shoulders  and  bore  us  up  to  heaven. 

Two  or  three  hours  were  passed  in  contemplating 
this  magnificence ;  searching  always  for  the  shores  of 
Sicily,  which  we  knew  we  must  be  approaching  since 
we  were  leaving  behind  us  Lipari,  the  ancient  Meli- 
gunis,  and  Stromboli,  the  ancient  Strongyle.  But 
before  us  lay  a  vast  veil  of  mist,  as  if  all  the  vapour 
driven  by  the  mistral  had  solidified  there  to  hide 
from  us  the  coasts  of  the  ancient  Trinacria.  We 
asked  the  pilot  if  he  was  navigating  us  toward  the 
shores  of  an  invisible  island,  and  if  there  was  no 
hojxj  that  soon  the  veil  which  hid  the  goddess  would 
fall.  Nun/.io  turned  to  the  west,  extended  his  hand 
above  his  head,  and  turned  back  to  us,  saying : 

"  Are  you  hungry  ?" 

"  Yes,  indeed,1"1  we  answered  with  one  voice. 

"  Well,  then  !  breakfast ;  and  I  Ml  promise  you 
Sicily  for  your  dessert." 


THE   SPERONARA  47 

"  Wind  of  Sardinia  ?"  asked  Arena. 

"  Yes,  captain,"  replied  Nunzio.  "  We  shall  be  off 
Messina  two  hours  after  the  Ave  Maria." 

"  Is  that  certain  ?"  I  asked. 

"  As  sure  as  the  Gospel,"  said  Pietro,  who  was 
laying  the  table;  "the  old  man  has  said  it." 

On  that  day  there  was  no  chance  of  fishing.  So 
they  wrung  the  necks  of  two  or  three  chickens,  served 
us  a  do/en  eggs,  brought  up  two  bottles  of  Bordeaux 
wine,  and  we  invited  the  captain  to  take  breakfast 
with  us.  When  I  say  that  Pietro  laid  the  table  I 
speak  metaphorically.  The  table  was  scarcely  set 
up  before  it  was  knocked  down,  and  we  were  forced 
to  eat  standing,  braced  against  some  support,  while 
Pietro  and  Giovanni  held  the  dishes.  The  rest  of 
the  crew,  inspired  by  our  example,  began  to  do  like- 
wise ;  excepting  old  Nunzio,  who,  forever  at  his  tiller, 
seemed  insensible  to  hunger,  thirst,  or  weariness. 

"  Tell  me,  captain,"  I  asked,  "  is  there  any  danger 
now  in  sending  a  bottle  of  wine  to  the  pilot  ?" 

"Hum!"  said  the  captain  looking  about  him, 
"  the  sea  is  still  heavy,  a  wave  is  easily  shipped." 

"  But  a  glass,  at  least." 

"  Oli  !  a  glass ;  there  is  no  harm  in  that.  Here !  " 
he  called  to  Peppino,  his  little  son,  who  appeared  just 
then,  "here,  take  this  glass  and  carry  it  up  to  the 
old  man  ;  and  don't  spill  it,  mind  you." 

Peppino  disappeared  and  a  moment  later  above 
the  roof  of  the  cabin  we  beheld  the  head  of  the  old 
pilot  who  was  wiping  his  mouth  with  his  sleeve,  while 
the  child  brought  back  the  empty  glass. 

"Thank  you,  Ecccllenza,"  said  Nun/io.     "Hum! 


48  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

hum !    thank   you.     Docs   no   harm    that,   does    it, 
Yicenzo  ?  " 

A  second  head  appeared.  "Twas  good,"  said 
Vicen/o,  plucking  off'  his  cap,  and  he  disappeared. 

"  What ! "  said  I,  "  are  there  two  ?" 

"  Oh  !  in  heavy  weather  they  are  never  apart ;  they 
are  old  friends." 

"  Then  a  second  glass  ? " 

"A  second  glass,  so  be  it;  but  that  is  the  last." 

Peppino  carried  up  our  second  offering,  and  I 
presently  saw  a  hand  holding  out  to  Nun/io  the 
glass,  scrupulously  emptied  to  precisely  half.  Nun/io 
pulled  off  his  cap,  bowed  to  me,  and  drank. 

"  Now,  Eccellenza,"  he  said,  "  I  think  that  if  you 
will  please  to  turn  to  the  Sicily  side  it  will  not  be 
long  before  you  see  something." 

Sure  enough,  we  began  to  feel  puffs  of  wind  com- 
ing from  the  direction  of  Sardinia,  by  which  we 
profited,  shaking  out  our  little  lateen  sail  upon  the 
foremast.  At  the  very  first  breath  of  that  wind,  the 
mists  that  lay  upon  the  sea  rose  like  smoke  from 
a  hearth  disclosing  gradually  the  coasts  of  Sicily 
and  the  mountains  of  Calabria,  which  at  first  sight 
seemed,  from  Cape  Blanco  to  the  Pi//o  point,  to  be 
but  one  continent,  surmounted  by  the  mighty  head 
of  .Etna.  The  fabled  land  of  Ovid,  of  Theocritus,  of 
Virgil  was  at  last  before  our  eyes,  and  our  ship,  like 
that  of  ./Eneas,  was  pressing  toward  it  under  all  sail, 
no  longer  protected  by  Poseidon,  ancient  god  of  the 
sea,  but  under  the  auspices  of  the  Madonna,  the 
modern  Star  of  Sicilian  sailors. 

We  ran  in  rapidly,  devouring  with  our  eyes  the 


THE  SPERONARA  49 

circular  horizon  that  opened  before  us  like  a  vast 
amphitheatre.  By  midday  we  were  off  Pelomm,  the 
cape  so  named  by  Hannibal  after  his  pilot.  The 
African  general,  fleeing  in  Asia  from  the  Romans 
who  pursued  him  in  Africa,  when  he  reached  this 
point  where  we  now  were,  whence  it  is  impossible 
to  see  the  straits,  believed  he  was  treacherously 
cornered  in  a  cove  where  his  enemies  could  blockade 
and  capture  him.  Hannibal  was  a  man  of  rapid 
and  extreme  determinations.  He  looked  at  his  hand ; 
the  ring  that  held  the  poison  that  he  always  carried 
was  on  his  finger.  Sure  of  thus  escaping  the  shame 
of  slavery,  he  resolved  that  the  pilot  who  had  betrayed 
him  should  announce  his  coming  to  Pluto,  and  with- 
out granting  him  the  two  hours  the  man  asked  in 
which  to  justify  his  pilotage,  he  had  him  cast  into 
the  sea.  Two  hours  later  he  perceived  his  error  and 
named  with  the  name  of  his  victim  the  promontory 
which,  stretching  far  towards  the  hither  coast,  had 
hidden  from  his  eyes  the  straits  of  safety,  —  a  tardy 
expiation  consecrated  by  historians,  and  kept  in  re- 
membrance to  this  day. 

And  now,  from  one  moment  to  another,  all  the 
features  of  the  coast  grew  visible ;  villages  stood  out 
in  white  relief  upon  the  verdant  shores ;  to  our  left 
we  began  to  see  ancient  Scvlla,  that  monster  with  the 
breast  of  a  woman  surrounded  from  the  waist  down 
by  savage  dogs,  so  dreaded  by  Greek  sailors,  which 
yEneas  was  entreated  by  Ilelenus  to  flee.  I  asked 
the  captain  if  he  could  not  check  the  rapidity  of  our 
course  so  as  to  give  me  time  to  recognize,  map  in 
hand,  those  towns  and  localities  with  sonorous  and 

4 


50  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

poetic  names.  My  demand  chimed  in  with  his  de- 
sires. Our  speronara,  too  proud  and  too  coquettish 
to  enter  the  harbour  of  Messina  all  buffeted  as  she 
was  by  the  storm,  needed  herself  to  pause  for  a  time 
while  her  broken  antennae  were  adjusted  and  new 
sails  were  bent.  So  we  lay-to  for  awhile  that  the 
sailors  might  do  the  work  more  easily.  I  took  my 
book  and  made  notes ;  Jadin  took  his  block  and  made 
sketches  of  the  coast.  Two  or  three  rapid  and  busy 
hours  were  thus  passed.  Then,  all  having  finished 
their  work,  we  steered  for  Messina,  and  the  little  ves- 
sel flew  through  the  sea  with  the  rapidity  of  a  bird 
seeking  her  nest. 

As  we  approached  Messina  I  remembered  the 
pilot's  prophecy  that  two  hours  after  the  Ave  Maria 
we  should  reach  our  destination.  That  reminded  me 
that  since  our  departure  I  had  never  seen  any  of  our 
sailors  performing  openly  the  duties  of  religion  which 
these  children  of  the  sea  consider  so  sacred.  More 
than  that:  a  little  cross  of  olive-wood  inlaid  with 
mother-of-pearl,  like  those  that  are  made  by  the 
monks  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  which  pilgrims  bring 
back  from  Jerusalem,  had  disappeared  from  our  cabin, 
and  I  found  it  on  the  prow  of  the  schooner,  above  a 
figure  of  the  Madonna  di  Pie  di  Grotta,  under  whose 
invocation  our  little  vessel  was  placed.  After  inquir- 
ing whether  there  was  any  particular  reason  for  this 
change  of  place  and  being  told  there  was  none,  I  took 
the  cross  back  to  the  cabin,  and  we  have  seen  how 
the  Madonna,  grateful  no  doubt,  protected  us  in  the 
hour  of  danger. 

"Captain,1"  I  said,  as  Arena  stood  near  me,  "I 


THE   SPERONARA  51 

think  on  all  Neapolitan,  Genoese,  and  Sicilian  ves- 
sels the  sailors  make  common  prayer  at  the  hour  of 
the  Ave  Maria ;  is  it  not  your  custom  on  board  the 
speronara  ?  " 

"  It  is,  Eccellenza,  it  is,"  replied  the  captain  eagerly, 
"  and  if  I  must  tell  the  truth,  it  troubles  us  greatly 
not  to  do  it.'1 

"  What  the  devil  hinders  you  ?  " 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  the  captain,  "  but,  as  we  often 
take  Englishmen  who  are  Protestants,  Greeks  who  are 
schismatics,  and  Frenchmen  who  are  nothing  at  all, 
we  are  afraid  of  wounding  the  belief  or  exciting  the 
unbelief  of  our  passengers  by  the  sight  of  religious 
practices  that  are  not  their  own.  But  if  passengers 
authorize  us  to  act  in  a  Christian  manner  we  are  very 
grateful  to  them;  so  that  if  you  will  permit  — 

"Permit!  why,  I  request  it  of  you,  captain;  and 
if  you  wjsh  to  begin  at  once,  it  seems  to  me,  as  it  is 
nearly  eight  o'clock  — 

The  captain  looked  at  his  watch  and,  seeing  that 
there  was  no  time  to  spare,  he  said  in  a  loud  voice: 

"  The  Ave  Maria." 

At  those  words  every  man  came  up  through  the 
hatchways  and  sprang  upon  deck.  More  than  one 
had,  doubtless,  already  begun  mentally  the  angelic 
salutation,  but  each  interrupted  it  to  take  his  part 
in  the  general  prayer.  From  one  end  of  Italy  to  the 
other  that  prayer,  offered  at  a  solemn  hour,  closes  the 
day  and  opens  the  night.  That  twilight  moment, 
full  of  poesy  everywhere,  becomes  at  sea  of  infinite 
sanctity.  The  mysterious  immensity  of  the  air  and 
the  waves,  the  deepened  sense  of  human  weakness 


52  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

compared  to  the  omnipotent  power  of  God,  the  com- 
ing darkness,  during  which  danger,  present  always, 
will  increase,  all  this  predisposes  the  heart  to  relig- 
ious emotions  and  to  that  holy  confidence  that  lifts 
the  soul  on  the  wings  of  faith.  This  evening  espe- 
cially, the  danger  we  had  just  escaped,  recalled  to  us 
now  and  again  by  a  swelling  wave  or  a  distant  roar, 
inspired  both  the  crew  and  ourselves  to  deep  medita- 
tion. At  the  moment  when  we  assembled  thus  upon 
the  deck,  night  was  beginning  to  close  in  from  the 
eastward;  the  mountains  of  Calabria  and  the  point 
of  Cape  Pelorum  were  losing  their  beautiful  azure 
colour  and  melting  into  grayish  tones  that  seemed  to 
fall  from  the  sky  like  a  fine  rain  of  ashes ;  while  to 
the  west,  a  little  to  the  right  of  the  archipelago  of 
Lipari,  where  isles  of  fantastic  shape  stood  out  in 
vigorous  relief  on  a  fiery  hori/on,  the  sun,  enlarged 
and  barred  with  violet  bands,  was  beginning  to  dip 
the  edge  of  her  disk  in  the  Tyrrhenian  Sea,  making 
those  sparkling  and  mobile  waters  into  waves  of  mol- 
ten gold.  At  this  moment  the  pilot  stood  up  behind 
the  cabin,  bearing  in  his  arms  the  captain's  son ;  he 
placed  the  child  on  his  knees  upon  the  roof  and,  aban- 
doning the  tiller  as  if  the  little  craft  were  protected 
by  the  prayer,  he  steadied  the  lx>y  where  he  knelt 
that  the  roll  of  the  sea  might  not  cause  him  to  lose 
his  balance.  This  little  separate  group  was  relieved 
against  a  golden  background,  like  some  painting  of 
Fra  Angelica  or  Bcnox/o  Gozzoli ;  and  the  child,  in  a 
voice  that  scarcely  reached  us,  though  it  rose  to  God, 
Ix'gan  to  recite  the  virginal  prayer,  to  which  the  sailors 
listened  on  their  knees  and  we  with  bowed  heads. 


THE  SPERONARA  53 

Those  are  memories  for  which  art  is  unskilful,  and 
a  pen  insufficient;  those  are  scenes  that  no  narrative 
can  convey,  no  picture  reproduce,  because  their 
grandeur  lies  wholly  in  the  inward  feeling  of  those 
who  take  part  in  them.  For  the  reader  of  travels, 
the  amateur  of  sea-pictures,  they  will  be  no  more 
than  a  child  praying,  men  responding,  a  vessel 
floating;  but  to  him  who  has  been  present  at  such  a 
scene  it  will  ever  be  one  of  the  grandest  spectacles 
he  ever  saw,  one  of  the  most  precious  memories  he 
ever  garnered  —  that  of  weakness  praying,  immensity 
looking  on,  and  God  the  Father  listening. 

The  prayer  ended,  each  man  returned  to  his  work. 
We  were  Hearing  the  straits ;  after  facing  Scylla  we 
were  now  to  confront  Charybdis.  Its  beacon  was 
lighted  as  the  sun  went  down,  and  we  saw,  minute 
by  minute,  the  other  beacons  of  Solano,  Scylla,  and 
San  Giovanni  break  out  like  stars.  The  wind,  as 
mariners  are  wont  to  say,  had  followed  the  sun  and 
was  now  as  favourable  as  possible,  so  that  by  nine 
o'clock  we  were  doubling  the  lighthouse  and  enter- 
ing the  straits.  Half  an  hour  later,  just  as  old 
Nun/io  had  predicted,  we  were  safely  past  Charybdis 
and  the  little  speronara  was  casting  anchor  before 
the  village  of  Delia  1'aee. 

It  was  too  late  then  to  get  pratique,  and  we  could 
not  land  without  fulfilling  that  formality.  Fear  of 
cholera  had  made  the  coast  inspection  very  active; 
there  was  risk  of  nothing  less  than  being  hanged  in 
case  of  infraction,  so  that,  lying  not  fifty  feet  from 
their  families,  nearly  all  of  whom  lived  at  Delia  Pace, 
our  sailors  were  unable,  after  t\vo  months'  absence, 


54  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

to  even  kiss  their  wives  and  children.  Nevertheless, 
the  sight  of  their  native  shore,  our  safe  arrival  in 
spite  of  the  burrasca,  the  pleasure  promised  for  the 
morrow  chased  off  vexation  and  soon  the  na'ive 
hearts  of  those  brave  fellows  opened  wide  to  all  the 
joyous  emotions  of  their  return.  Hardly  was  our 
little  ship  at  anchor  and  her  sails  clewed  up  before 
the  captain,  who  had  stopped  her  just  opposite  to 
his  own  house  and  as  near  as  possible  to  the  shore, 
gave  a  call  of  inquiry.  Instantly  a  window  opened  ; 
a  woman  appeared ;  two  words  alone  were  exchanged 
between  sea  and  land :  "  Giuseppe  ! "  —  "  Maria ! " 

Within  five  minutes  the  village  was  in  a  state  of 
revolution.  The  rumour  ran  that  the  speronara  had 
returned,  and  the  mothers,  the  daughters,  the  wives, 
and  the  brides  came  flocking  to  the  shore  armed 
with  torches.  The  crew  were  on  deck ;  each  called, 
all  answered  ;  questions,  answers,  requests  flew  across 
and  across  with  such  rapidity  that  I  could  not  under- 
stand how  any  one  was  able  to  distinguish  what 
belonged  to  him  or  her  from  what  was  meant  for  a 
neighbour.  Yet  all  was  disentangled  with  wonderful 
facilitv,  each  word  found  the  heart  to  which  it  was 
addressed ;  and  as  no  mishap  had  saddened  absence, 
the  joy  was  universal  and  found  expression  in  Pietro, 
who  began,  accompanied  by  Filippo's  whistling,  to 
dance  the  tarantella,  while  the  girl  he  loved,  ashore, 
following  his  example,  began  to  frisk  in  answer.  It 
was  surely  the  most  original  thing  in  the  world,  this 
dance,  performed  partly  on  board,  partly  on  shore, 
the  people  of  the  village  joining  in,  and  the  whole 
crew,  not  to  be  left  behind,  dancing  too,  so  that 


THE   SPERONARA  55 

(excepting   Jadin    and    myself)    the   ballet   became 


"  A  Veil,  Pietro,"  I  said,  as  he  dropped  exhausted  on 
the  deck,  "  here  we  are  at  last." 

"  Si,  signore,  and  at  the  very  hour  the  old  man 
said ;  he  was  not  mistaken  by  ten  minutes." 

"  And  we  are  glad  ?  " 

"  A  trifle.     We  shall  see  the  little  wife." 


Ill 

MESSINA.     TAORMINA   LA  BELLA 

ON  the  morrow  we  awoke  with  the  dawn ;  its 
first  gleams  showed  us  the  queen  of  the  straits, 
the  second  capital  of  Sicily,  Messina  the  Noble,  whose 
marvellous  situation,  with  its  seven  gates,  five  squares, 
six  fountains,  twenty-eight  palaces,  four  libraries, 
two  theatres,  harbour,  and  commerce,  have  made 
her,  in  spite  of  the  plague  of  174-2  and  the  terrible 
earthquake  of  1783,  one  of  the  most  flourishing  and 
graceful  cities  in  the  world.  Nevertheless,  from  the 
spot  whence  we  first  saw  her,  that  is  to  say  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  feet  from  the  shore,  opposite  to  the 
village  of  Delia  Pace,  we  had  only  n  most  imperfect 
idea  of  her ;  but  as  soon  as  we  weighed  anchor  and 
approached  the  city  from  the  straits,  Messina  in  all 
her  majesty  appeared  to  us. 

Few  situations  equal  that  of  Messina,  all-powerful 
gate  of  two  seas  through  which  there  is  no  passing 
from  one  to  the  other  without  her  royal  good 
pleasure.  Leaning  against  hill-slopes  of  marvellously 
varied  shapes  clothed  with  pomegranates,  oleanders, 
and  the  prickly  pear,  she  faces  Calabria.  Behind 
t!ie  city  rises  the  sun,  and  as  he  mounts  the  hori/.on 
ho  colours  the  panorama  he  illumines  with  the  most 


THE  SPERONAHA  57 

capricious  tints.     To  the  right  of  the  city  stretches 
the  Ionian  sea,  to  her  left  the  Mediterranean. 

We  cast  anchor  directly  opposite  to  a  fountain  of 
magnificent  rococo  representing  Neptune  charming 
Scylla  and  Charybdis.  In  Sicily  everything  is  still 
mythological ;  Ovid  and  Theocritus  are  regarded  as 
new  men.  No  sooner  was  the  anchor  down  and  the 
sails  furled  than  we  received  an  invitation  to  go  at 
once  to  the  custom-house,  that  is  to  say,  to  the 
police-office.  My  foot  was  on  the  gangway  prepar- 
ing to  get  into  the  boat  when  a  lamentable  cry 
arrested  me;  it  was  Cama  the  cook,  whom  I  had 
completely  lost  sight  of  after  his  apparition  in  the 
midst  of  the  storm ;  he  was  now  beginning  to  come 
out  of  his  torpor  like  a  marmot  in  the  spring.  The 
poor  lad,  although  he  had  neither  eaten  nor  drunk 
since  the  day  of  our  departure,  was  terribly  bloated  : 
his  eyes  had  swollen  to  the  si/e  of  eggs,  and  his  lips 
to  that  of  sausages.  But  in  spite  of  the  deplorable 
state  to  which  he  was  reduced,  the  stillness  of  the 
vessel  was  bringing  him,  little  by  little,  to  himself, 
so  that  he  could  stand,  or  nearly  so,  when  the  boat, 
was  ready  to  take  us  ashore.  Seeing  that  I  was 
going  without  him  he  felt  he  was  forgotten,  and 
gathering  all  his  strength  he  uttered  the  lamentable 
cry  that  made  me  look  back.  I  had  too  much  pity 
in  my  heart  to  abandon  poor  Cama  in  such  distress, 
and  I  signed  to  the  boatmen  to  take  him. 

Arrived  at  the  custom-house  and  about  to  appear 
before  the  Messinian  authorities,  another  trial  iv\aited 
the  poor  fellow.  In  his  hurry  to  leave  Naples  and 
cook  for  an  appreciator  of  Rolando  he  had  forgotten 


58  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

one  thing  —  to  provide  himself  with  a  passport.  I 
thought  at  first  that  this  could  easily  be  arranged,  for 
when  Guichard  obtained  from  the  French  ambassador 
the  passport  under  which  I  was  travelling,  knowing 
that  I  expected  to  take  a  servant  with  me,  he  had 
the  passport  made  out  for  "  Monsieur  Guichard  and 
servant ;""  then  he  took  the  paper  to  the  Neapolitan 
authorities  for  their  visa.  There,  as  a  measure  of 
governmental  safety,  they  asked  the  name  of  the  said 
servant,  and  he  gave  the  first  that  came  into  his  head, 
so  that  the  passport  now  read,  "  Monsieur  Guichard 
and  servant  named  Bajocco."  I  therefore  proposed 
to  Cama  to  become  momentarily  Bajocco,  which 
seemed  to  me  a  name  that  was  quite  as  respectable 
as  his  own.  To  my  great  astonishment  he  refused  it 
with  indignation  ;  never,  he  said,  had  he  blushed  to 
be  called  by  his  father's  name,  and  nothing  would 
induce  him  to  affront  his  family  by  travelling  under 
a  fictitious  patronymic,  especially  one  so  eccentric 
as  Bajocco.  I  insisted  ;  he  was  firm.  Unhappily,  on 
touching  terra  firma  his  strength  had  come  back  to 
him,  as  it  did  to  Antaeus,  and  with  his  strength  his 
native  obstinacy.  We  were  still  in  the  midst  of  the 
discussion  when  they  came  to  tell  me  that  we  were 
'wanted  in  the  visa  office.  Not  very  sure  of  the 
validity  of  my  own  passport  I  had  no  desire  to  com- 
plicate my  situation  with  that  of  Cama;  so,  sending 
him  to  all  the  devils,  I  went  in  alone. 

Contrary  to  my  expectation,  the  scrutiny  so  far 
as  I  was  concerned  passed  without  hindrance;  they 
merely  observed  that  my  passport  gave  no  personal 
description  of  me,  —  a  precaution  taken  by  Guichard, 


THE   SPERONARA  59 

whose  bodily  appearance  agreed  but  little  with  mine. 
I  replied  to  the  official  very  courteously  that  he  was 
quite  at  liberty  to  supply  that  deficiency,  which  he 
did  at  once.  When  this  formality,  which  made  my 
passport  unimpeachable,  was  completed  to  the  satis- 
faction of  both  parties,  he  gave  permission  in  a  loud 
voice,  to  Jadin  and  me,  to  go  ashore.  I  should  have 
liked  to  wait  a  moment  for  Cama  and  know  how 
he  got  himself  out  of  his  scrape,  but  as  every- 
thing, haste  or  delay,  is  suspicious  in  the  eyes  of  the 
amiable  government  with  which  we  now  had  to  do,  I 
contented  myself  with  commending  him  to  the  cap- 
tarn  before  I  jumped  with  Jadin  into  the  boat  that 
took  us  at  last  to  the  quay. 

We  entered  the  town  through  the  port  gate 
and  launched  ourselves  hap-haxard  into  the  streets. 
Modern  as  the  buildings  are  and  inadequate  the 
architects,  nothing  can  take  from  the  situation  of 
Messina  what  it  possesses  of  grandiose  and  dis- 
tinctive. Two  things  struck  me  among  others  in 
the  town  itself:  first,  a  gigantic  stairway  leading 
from  one  street  to  another,  which  seemed  to  me  like  a 
fragment  of  the  ancient  Babel ;  secondly,  the  strange 
appearance  given  to  all  the  houses  by  iron  balconies 
of  uniform  rounded  shape,  filled  with  climbing  plants 
that  hide  the  bars  and  drape  the  walls  in  long  fes- 
toons that  sway  as  the  breexe  floats  them.  Pardon 
me,  I  am  forgetting  a  third  :  at  the  door  of  a  guard- 
house I  saw  a  corporal  of  gendarmerie  making  a  dress 
of  rose-coloured  tulle  with  flounces.  I  stopped  a  mo- 
ment before  him,  and  so  ama/ed  was  I  by  the  skill 
with  which  he  used  the  needle  that  I  made  inquiries 


GO  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

about  the  gallant  soldier.  I  was  told  that  in  Messina 
the  trade  of  dressmaking  was,  as  a  general  thing, 
carried  on  by  men  ;  my  hero  was  a  pluralist,  gen- 
darme and  women's  tailor  in  one. 

In  Messina  there  is  neither  royal  park  nor  public 
garden  ;  so  that  every  one  goes  in  the  evening  to  the 
quay  of  the  Palazzata,  commonly  called  the  Marina, 
to  breathe  the  sea-air.  The  port  is  therefore  the 
rendezvous  of  the  Messinian  aristocracy,  who  drive 
or  ride  on  horseback  up  and  down  from  one  gate  to 
the  other,  a  distance  of  about  three-quarters  of  a 
mile.  Perhaps  if  one  could  cross  the  Mediterranean 
at  a  bound  and  spring  from  the  Boulevard  des 
Italiens  to  the  Marina  of  Messina  one  might  see 
some  marked  difference  in  the  personages  who  people 
the  two  promenades;  but  coming  from  Naples  the 
transition  is  too  slight  to  be  felt.  The  only  thing 
that  gives  the  Marina  a  special  air  is  the  presence  of 
charming  abbes,  gallant,  coquettish,  elegantly  dressed, 
wearing  gold  chains  like  knights,  and  mounted  on 
magnificent  asses  from  Pantellaria,  with  genealogies 
like  those  of  racers,  and  trappings  that  vied  in 
elegance  with  those  of  the  finest  horses. 

Reaching  the  hotel,  we  found  our  captain  awaiting 
us.  I  asked  him  for  news  of  Cama ;  the  poor  devil 
was  in  prison  and  clamouring  for  me.  Unluckily,  it 
was  too  late  to  do  anything  that  night ;  the  Nea- 
politan authorities  being  of  all  known  authorities  the 
ones  it  is  most  imprudent  to  disturb  out  of  the  hours 
that  they  deign  to  employ  on  the  vexing  of  travel- 
lers. We  were  forced,  therefore,  to  postpone  the 
matter  till  the  morrow.  Besides  which,  I  had  at 


THE   SPERONARA  61 

the  moment  a  more  serious  anxiety.  Jadin,  who 
had  felt  unwell  all  day  and  had  left  me  in  the  middle 
of  my  ramblings  through  the  town  to  find  the  hotel, 
was  now  really  ill.  I  sent  for  the  landlord  and 
asked  him  for  the  address  of  the  best  doctor  in 
Messina,  and  the  captain  hurried  off  to  find  him. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  Arena  returned  with 
a  worthy  doctor  of  a  sort  I  supposed  existed  no 
longer  except  in  the  comedies  of  Dorat  and  Mari- 
vaux,  in  a  wig  of  corkscrew  curls  and  carrying  a 
gold-headed  cane.  ^Esculapius  at  once  perceived  the 
symptoms  of  a  cerebral  fever  in  due  form,  and  ordered 
a  bleeding.  I  sent  for  linen  and  a  basin,  and  seeing 
that  he  rose  to  withdraw,  I  asked  him  to  perform  the 
operation  himself;  but  he  answered,  with  an  air  of 
great  majesty,  that  he  was  a  physician,  not  a  barber, 
and  that  I  must  send  for  a  bleeder  to  carry  out 
his  prescription.  Happy  land,  where  there  still  are 
Figaros  off  the  stage  ! 

I  was  not  long  in  finding  what  I  wanted.  In 
addition  to  the  two  shaving-dishes  hung  outside 
their  doors  and  the  connilio  mtimujue  intended  for 
the  guidance  of  Count  Almaviva,  the  Messinese  fra- 
ternity had  a  special  sign  of  their  own,  representing 
a  man  bleeding  from  all  four  limbs,  the  blood  gush- 
ing symmetrically  into  a  huge  basin,  the  man  himself 
fainting  into  a  chair  behind  him.  This  prospectus 
was  not  attractive;  and  if  Jadin  himself  had  been  in 
search  of  the  honourable  skilled  workman  his  con- 
dition needed,  I  doubt  whether  he  would  have  given 
preference  to  this  one ;  but  as  I  was  resolved  to  let 
him  be  bled  from  one  limb  onlv,  I  believed  he  would 


62  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

escape  with  one  quarter  of  the  syncope.  All  went 
well ;  the  bleeding  did  good,  although  Jadin  during 
the  night  began  to  wander  and  by  morning  was 
delirious.  The  doctor  returned  at  the  hour  agreed 
upon  ;  said  the  patient  was  doing  well,  ordered  a 
second  bleeding  and  an  application  of  iced  towels  to 
the  head.  The  day  passed  without  my  seeing  clearly 
which  of  the  two,  patient  or  fever,  would  win  the 
fight.  I  was  horribly  anxious.  Besides  my  real 
affection  for  Jadin,  I  should  have  to  reproach  myself, 
if  harm  happened  to  him,  for  having  enticed  him 
into  this  journey.  I  awaited  the  morrow  with  great 
impatience. 

The  doctor  had  ordered  that  the  patient  be  ex- 
posed to  all  the  winds  that  blew  ;  doors  and  windows 
were  to  be  opened  and  I  was  to  keep  him  as  much  as 
possible  in  currents  of  air.  Strange  as  this  prescrip- 
tion seemed,  I  olreyed  it  day  and  night  religiously. 
But  to  my  great  astonishment  the  darkness,  instead 
of  bringing  a  gentle  breeze,  soft  breathing  of  the 
night,  cooler  near  the  .sea  than  it  is  elsewhere,  blew 
in  upon  us  a  parching,  burning  wind  that  seemed 
like  the  vapour  of  an  oven.  I  counted  on  the 
morrow ;  the  morrow  brought  no  change  in  the 
state  of  the  atmosphere. 

The  night  had  cruelly  tired  my  poor  patient;  but 
the  cerebral  excitement  seemed  to  me  to  have  les- 
sened somewhat  and  given  place  to  increasing  weak- 
ness. I  rang  for  more  lemonade,  the  only  drink  the 
doctor  ordered  ;  no  one  answered.  I  rang  a  second, 
then  a  third  time;  at  last,  seeing  that  the  mountain 
would  not  come  to  me,  I  resolved  to  go  to  the  moun- 


THE  SPERONARA  63 

tain.  I  went  through  all  the  corridors  and  the 
apartments  without  finding  a  person  to  speak  to. 
The  master  and  mistress  of  the  house  had  not  left 
their  chamber,  although  it  was  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  Not  a  servant  was  at  his  post.  It  was 
wholly  incomprehensible. 

I  went  down  to  the  porter  and  found  him  lying  on 
a  tattered  old  divan,  the  principal  ornament  of  his 
lodge,  and  asked  him  why  the  house  was  deserted. 

"  Ah,  signore  ! "  he  said,  "  don't  you  feel  it  is 
sirocco  ?  " 

"  But  suppose  it  is  sirocco,"  I  said,  "  that  is  no 
reason  why  no  one  should  come  when  I  ring." 

"  Oh,  signore !  when  it  is  sirocco  no  one  does 
anything.1" 

"  What !  no  one  docs  anything  ?  Who  waits  upon 
the  travellers?" 

"  Ah  !  those  days  they  wait  upon  themselves." 

"That's  another  thing.  Pardon  me  for  disturb- 
ing you,  my  worthy  man."  The  porter  heaved  a 
sigh  that  told  me  it  needed  great  Christian  charity 
to  grant  the  pardon  I  asked. 

Then  I  went  in  search  of  the  necessary  articles  for 
the  making  of  lemonade  ;  I  found  lemons,  water,  and 
sugar  as  a  sporting  dog  finds  game.  No  one  guided 
me  or  hindered  me  in  my  quest.  The  house  seemed 
literally  abandoned,  and  I  reflected  that  a  band  of 
robbers  who  could  rise  superior  to  sirocco  might  do 
an  excellent  business  in  Messina 

The  hour  for  the  doctor's  visit  arrived,  and  the 
doctor  came  not.  I  presumed  that  he,  too,  had 
sirocco,  but  as  Judin's  condition  was  far  from  being 


64  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

visibly  reassuring  I  resolved  to  go  and  rouse  my 
vEsculapius  in  his  home  and  bring  him,  willv  nillv, 
to  his  patient.  I  remembered  the  address  given  to 
the  captain ;  and  taking  my  hat  I  set  forth  bravely. 
In  passing  along  the  corridor,  I  noticed  a  thermome- 
ter; it  marked  30  degrees  [Reaumur]  in  the  shade. 

Messina  wore  the  appearance  of  a  dead  city ;  not 
an  inhabitant  moved  in  the  streets,  not  a  head  ap- 
peared at  the  windows.  Her  beggars  (and  whoso 
has  not  seen  a  Sicilian  beggar  knows  nothing  of 
poverty),  —  her  beggars  themselves  were  lying  in  the 
street  corners,  panting,  without  strength  to  raise 
their  hand,  without  voice  to  a.sk  for  alms.  Pompeii, 
which  I  visited  three  months  later,  was  not  more 
silent,  more  solitary,  more  lifeless. 

I  reached  the  doctor's  house.  I  rang;  I  knocked  ; 
no  one  answered.  I  applied  my  hand  to  the  door  ; 
it  was  ajar.  I  entered,  and  began  my  search  for  the 
doctor.  I  passed  through  several  rooms ;  women 
were  lying  on  the  sofas,  children  lay  extended  on 
the  floor.  No  one  raised  a  head  to  look  at  me.  At 
last  I  came  to  a  room  with  its  door  half  open.  I 
entered  and  saw  my  man  at  full  length  upon  his 
bed. 

I  went  to  him,  took  his  hand,  felt  his  pulse. 

"Ah!*1  he  said,  sadly,  turning  his  head  with  dif- 
ficulty towards  me  :  "  You  here  —  what  do  you 
want  ?  ** 

"  Pardieu !  what  do  I  want  ?  I  want  you  to  come 
and  see  my  friend,  who  seems  to  me  no  better." 

"  Go  and  see  your  friend  ! ""  replied  the  doctor, 
with  a  gesture  of  horror,  "  but  that  is  impossible."1 


THE  SPERONARA  63 

"  Impossible ! " 

He  made  a  desperate  movement,  took  his  cane  in 
his  left  hand,  and  slid  it  through  his  right  hand  from 
the  golden  knob  at  one  end  to  the  pointed  ferrule  at 
the  other.  "  See,"  he  said,  "  my  cane  sweats." 

And  drops  of  water  did  actually  fall  from  it,  so 
terrible  is  the  action  of  this  wind,  even  on  inanimate 
things. 

"  Well !  what  does  that  prove  ?  "  I  asked. 

"It  proves  that  in  weather  like  this  there  are  no 
longer  doctors,  —  nothing  but  patients." 

I  saw  that  I  could  never  induce  him  to  come  to 
the  hotel ;  and  that  if  I  asked  too  much  I  should 
get  nothing.  I  therefore  reduced  myself  to  a  report 
of  the  case ;  I  explained  the  changes  in  the  patient's 
condition,  and  told  how  the  fever  had  departed, 
giving  place  to  exhaustion.  As  I  went  on  explain- 
ing the  symptoms  the  doctor  merely  said  now  and 
then:  "  He  is  doing  well  —  he  is  doing  well  —  he  is 
doing  very  well  —  lemonade  —  a  great  deal  of  lem- 
onade —  lemonade  as  much  as  he  likes  —  I  will 
answer  for  him."  Then,  exhausted  bv  this  effort, 
yKsculapius  made  me  a  sign  that  it  was  useless  to 
torment  him  any  longer,  and  turned  his  nose  to  the 
wall. 

"  Well  ?"  said  Jadin,  when  I  returned,  u  isn't  the 
doctor  coming  ?  " 

"  My  dear  fellow,  he  declares  that  he  is  more  ill 
than  you,  and  that  you  had  better  go  and  take  care 
of  hint." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  him,  —  the  plague  ?  " 

"  Worse  than  that  —  sirocco." 
3 


66  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

After  all,  the  doctor  was  right ;  I  saw  myself  that 
the  patient  was  visibly  better.  As  the  thing  had 
been  prescribed,  he  spent  his  whole  day  in  drinking 
lemonade ;  and  by  night  even  his  headache  had  dis- 
appeared. The  next  day,  except  for  weakness,  he 
was  almost  well.  I  left  him  to  settle  his  account 
with  the  doctor,  and  started  on  foot  to  make  a  little 
excursion  to  the  village  of  Delia  Pace,  the  home  of 
our  sailors,  which  stands  about  four  miles  north  of 
Palermo. 

I  found  the  road  to  the  village  charming  ;  it  skirts 
on  one  side  the  mountain,  on  the  other  the  sea.  It 
wasyhvta.  The  relics  of  Saint  Nicholas  were  to  be 
carried  in  procession,  I  don't  know  why  or  wherefore, 
but  procession  there  was  to  be,  to  the  great  joy  of 
the  populations.  As  I  passed  before  the  church 
of  the  Jesuits,  which  stands  about  a  mile  from  Delia 
Pace,  I  entered  it.  Mass  was  being  said.  I  ap- 
proached the  chapel  and  there  I  saw  all  our  sailors 
on  their  knees,  the  captain  at  their  head.  It  was  a 
mass  promised  during  the  storm,  and  they  were 
keeping  their  promise  with  a  punctuality  that  would 
have  been  very  meritorious  in  dwellers  ashore.  I 
waited  in  a  corner  until  divine  service  was  over :  then, 
when  the  priest  had  said  the  Ite,  mixsa  exl,  I  came 
out  from  behind  a  column  and  greeted  our  men. 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  way  in  which  they 
received  me:  each  face  passed  suddenly  from  an 
expression  of  pious  meditation  to  one  of  joy ;  my 
two  hands  were  instantly  seized  and  kissed  and  re- 
kissed,  whether  I  would  or  no.  Then  I  was  presented 
to  their  wives  and  daughters,  more  especially  to  the 


THE   SPERONARA  67 

wife  of  the  captain.  They  were  more  or  less  pretty, 
hut  nearly  all  of  them  had  hemitiful  eyes,  those 
Sicilian  eyes,  black  and  velvety,  such  as  I  have  seen 
nowhere  except  at  Aries  and  in  Sicily,  where  they 
have  in  all  probability  —  both  for  Aries  and  for 
Sicily  —  a  common  origin  :  Arabia. 

I  arrived  at  the  right  moment:  the  captain  was 
just  about  to  start  for  Messina  to  fetch  me.  He 
wanted  me  to  come  to  La  Pace  and  see  the  fete. 
We  went  to  his  home;  he  lived  in  a  pretty  little 
house,  full  of  comfort  and  cleanliness.  I  noticed,  after 
a  while,  that  he  was  holding  high  conference  with 
his  wife,  and  I  guessed  that  its  topic  related  to  me. 
It  was,  in  fact,  nothing  less  than  to  ask  me  to  break- 
fast ;  but  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  ventured  to 
say  the  word.  I  relieved  their  embarrassment  by 
inviting  myself.  Instantly  there  was  revolution. 
Master  Peppino  was  sent  to  bring  the  pilot,  Giovanni, 
and  Pietro.  The  pilot  was  to  breakfast  with  us ; 
it  was  I  who  requested  this;  Giovanni  was  to  cook, 
and  Pietro  to  wait.  Maria  ran  to  the  garden  for 
fruit;  the  captain  descended  to  the  village  to  buy 
fish ;  and  I  was  left  sole  master  and  guardian  of 
the  house.  As  I  presumed  that  all  these  prepara- 
tions would  take,  at  the  least,  half  an  hour  or  three 
quarters,  and  that  my  presence  would  only  embarrass 
these  worthy  people,  I  resolved  to  put  the  time  to 
use  by  making  a  little  excursion  above  the  village. 
The  captain's  house  backed  on  the  mountain  and  a 
little  path  led  from  the  back  door  directly  upon  it. 
I  took  this  path,  and  began  to  climb  the  acclivity 
through  cacti,  pomegranates,  and  oleanders. 


68  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

In  proportion  as  I  went  up,  the  landscape,  when  I 
ga/ed  back,  with  Messina  to  right  and  Pelorum  to 
left,  broadened  before  me ;  while  to  the  eastward  lav, 
like  a  curtain  all  mottled  with  villages,  plains,  forests, 
and  foothills,  that  long  chain  of  the  Apennines,  which 
rises  behind  Nice,  traverses  all  Italy,  and  sinks  away 
at  Reggio.  Little  by  little  I  overlooked  Messina, 
then  the  Promontory,  until  at  last,  beyond  the  citv, 
I  beheld,  like  a  vast  sheet  of  silver  lying  in  the  sun- 
shine, the  Ionian  Sea,  and  bevond  Pelorum,  rolling 
out  like  a  vast  blue  moire  ribbon,  the  tideless  Med- 
iterranean. At  my  feet  .were  the  Straits,  which  I 
now  could  see  from  end  to  end,  their  current' as  vis- 
ible as  a  river,  and  showing  to  the  eye  the  whirlpools 
of  Charvbdis,  so  dreaded  by  the  ancients,  which  Ho- 
mer, in  the  Odyssey,  places  opposite  to  Scylla,  though 
they  are  in  point  of  fact  at  a  distance  of  thirteen 
miles. 

I  seated  myself  in  the  shade  of  a  glorious  chest- 
nut tree  with  the  singular  sensations  of  a  man  who 
finds  himself  at  last  in  a  land  he  has  long  desired  to 
roam  and  doubts  if  he  is  really  there ;  he  asks  himself 
whether  the  capes,  the  villages,  the  mountains  which 
he  has  before  his  eyes  are  truly  those  of  which  he  has 
read  so  much ;  can  it  be  that  to  them  belong  those 
poetic,  sonorous,  harmonious  names  to  which  in  his 
childhood  he  was  rocked  by  Greek  and  Latin  —  those 
two  nurses  of  the  mind,  if  not  of  the  soul  ? 

Yes,  it  was  really  I,  and  I  was  in  Sicily  ;  I  was  see- 
ing the  same  places  that  Ulysses  and  /Eneas  saw,  and 
Homer  and  Virgil  sang.  That  picturesque  little  vil- 
lage over  there  near  to  a  high  rock  and  crowned  by 


THE   SPERONARA  69 

a  fortress  is  the  Scylla  that  so  terrified  Anchises. 
This  sea,  boiling  at  my  feet,  which  so  many  centuries 
have  not  quite  calmed,  is  the  veil  that  hid  the  im- 
placable Chary bdis.  It  was  here  that  Frederick  the 
Second,  grandson  of  Barbarossa,  flung  the  golden  cup 
which  Colas  il  Pesce,  the  hero  of  Schiller's  ballad, 
plunged  three  times  vainly  into  the  vortex  to  recover. 
And  behind  me  I  was  leaning,  as  it  were,  against 
/Etna,  the  fabulous  and  gigantic  /Etna,  which  touches 
heaven  with  her  head,  flings  stones  of  fire  to  the  stars, 
and  makes  Trinacria  tremble  when  the  giant  buried 
in  her  bosom  tunis  on  his  side.  Only,  /Etna,  like 
Charybdis,  is  now  very  quiet,  a  slender  vapour  alone 
shows  that  the  sleeping  giant  breathes,  and  gives 
warning  in  time  that  he  is  not  dead. 

I  had  reached  this  point  in  my  reverie  when  I  saw 
the  captain  at  the  window  of  his  cottage  making 
signs  to  me  that  all  was  ready ;  and  I  went  down 
rapidly.  My  good  captain  had  spent  himself  on 
hospitality,  and  Giovanni  had  done  marvels.  Es- 
pecially was  there  a  dish  of  fish  which  seemed  to  me  a 
masterpiece.  I  asked  the  name  of  his  finny  excel- 
lence ;  I  knew  it  not,  and  it  seemed  to  me  worthy  of 
public  knowledge.  I  was  told  I  had  to  do  with  a 
pesce  spado.  I  then  remembered  having  read  in  my 
youth  very  interesting  accounts  of  how  the  swordfish, 
using  the  terrible  weapon  with  which  Nature  has 
armed  the  end  of  its  nose,  will  attack  a  whale ;  leap- 
ing into  the  air  and  letting  itself  fall  head  foremost 
and  so  transfixing  the  cetacean  with  its  sword,  which  is 
usually  four  or  five  feet  long.  Hut  there  the  infor- 
mation of  the  naturalist  ceased.  I  had  been  satisfied 


70  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

to  value  the  swordfish  solely  for  its  aptitude  in  fenc- 
ing, but  I  now  saw  that  M.  de  Buffon  had  done  him 
injustice.  He  possesses,  as  fish,  qualities  hitherto 
unknown,  but  not  less  estimable  than  those  his  his- 
torian seeks  to  palliate,  and  he  deserves  to  obtain  in 
the  "  Cuisiniere  bourgeoise  "  a  necrological  article  as 
important  as  the  biographical  article  he  now  pos- 
sesses in  Natural  History. 

The  dessert  was  not  less  remarkable  than  the  break- 
fast. It  was  composed  of  pomegranates,  magnificent 
oranges,  and  a  fruit  as  little  known  to  me  as  the  fish 
about  which  I  had  just  gathered  such  precious  infor- 
mation. It  is  called  the  Jigue  (Tlnde  [the  prickly 
pear],  that  perpetual  manna  which  Sicily  offers  so 
freely  to  the  gluttony  of  the  rich  and  the  poverty  of 
the  poor.  As  soon  as  one  leaves  the  gates  of  a  city, 
masses  of  these  enormous  cacti,  laden  with  their 
fruit,  rise  up  on  all  sides.  The  Indian  fig  is  about 
the  size  of  a  hen's  egg,  wrapped  in  a  green  pulp,  and 
protected  by  little  bunches  of  prickles,  a  wound  from 
which  will  cause  a  long  and  painful  sore.  Conse- 
quently, a  certain  amount  of  study  is  required  to 
disembowel  the  fruit  without  accident.  That  opera- 
tion over,  there  issues  from  the  gash  a  globe  of  yel- 
lowish flesh,  sweet,  cool  and  melting ;  we  began,  at 
first,  by  tasting  it  with  a  certain  reserve,  but  by 
the  end  of  a  week  we  had  made  it  a  nccessitv.  The 
Sicilians  adore  this  fruit,  which  is  to  them  what  the 
watermelon  is  to  the  Neapolitans,  with  this  difference, 
that  the  watermelon  needs  a  certain  culture  and  can- 
not be  had  gratuitously  ;  whereas  the  Indian  fig  grows 
everywhere,  in  the  sand,  in  gardens,  in  marshes,  among 


THE   SPERONARA  71 

rocks,  and  even  in  the  clefts  of  the  walls,  and  costs 
nothing  except  the  trouble  of  gathering  it. 

Breakfast  over  the  captain  proposed  to  me  to  go 
and  see  the  fc.ftu  of  the  relics  of  Saint  Nicholas.  It 
can  well  be  imagined  that  I  did  not  refuse  the  pro- 
posal. We  started  by  goin&  up  the  road  that  led  to 
the  lighthouse,  but  presently  we  turned  oft'  upon 
rolling  land  that  hid  the  sea  from  sight,  and  came, 
after  awhile,  to  the  shore  of  a  little,  isolated  blue, 
clear  lake,  brilliant  as  a  mirror,  surrounded  on  the 
left  by  a  row  of  houses,  on  the  right  by  a  line  of 
hills  which  prevent  the  pretty  cup  from  emptying 
itself  into  the  straits.  This  is  the  lake  of  Pantana. 
Its  banks  now  presented  the  sight  of  a  fete  cham- 
pttre  reduced  to  its  most  naive  simplicity,  with  games 
impossible  to  win,  little  stalls  laden  down  with  fruit, 
and  the  tarantella. 

It  was  there  that  I  was  able  for  the  first  time  to 
examine  that  dance  in  all  its  details.  It  is  a  marvel- 
lous dance,  and  the  most  adaptable  that  I  know  of, 
provided  there  is  a  musician,  or  that  the  dancers  can 
sing  or  whistle  the  air  themselves.  It  is  danced 
alone,  or  in  twos,  fours,  eights,  and  so  on  indefinitely, 
if  desired ;  man  with  man,  woman  with  woman,  those 
who  know  each  other  and  those  who  do  not ;  external 
circumstances  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,  nothing 
disturbs  the  dancers.  When  one  of  the  spectators 
desires  to  join  he  leaves  the  circle  surrounding  the 
space  reserved  for  the  dance,  jumps  alternately  first 
on  one  foot  then  on  the  other  until  some  other  jjerson 
detaches  himself  or  herself  from  the  dance  and  jumps 
in  like  manner  in  front  of  him.  If  this  partner  delays 


72  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

and  the  monotony  of  his  jump  wearies  the  actor,  he 
approaches  some  couple  who  have  danced  for  some 
time,  nudges  the  elbow  of  the  man  or  the  woman 
who  has  danced  the  longest,  sends  that  person  to 
rest  and  takes  the  vacant  place,  gallantry  not  causing 
him  to  make  any  selection  as  to  sex.  It  must  be 
said  that  the  Sicilians  fully  appreciate  the  advan- 
tages of  this  independent  jig;  the  tarantella  is  an 
absolute  malady  among  them.  I  had  hardly  arrived 
at  the  shores  of  the  lake  with  the  captain,  his  wife, 
Nunxio,  Giovanni,  Pictro,  and  Peppino,  before  I 
found  myself  absolutely  alone,  and  free  to  make 
all  the  reflections  I  wanted  to  make.  The  whole 
party  were  dancing  in  rivalry  with  one  another,  and 
there  was  not  one  of  them,  down  to  the  captain's  son, 
who  was  not  jigging  away  in  front  of  a  species  of 
giant  who  showed  no  other  difference  from  the 
Cyclops,  from  whom  he  seemed  to  descend  in  a 
straight  line,  than  that  of  possessing  a  pair  of  eyes, 
which,  as  we  know,  the  other  did  not. 

As  for  the  music  that  set  the  population  a -jigging, 
it  was  not,  as  with  us,  stationary  at  a  certain  point, 
but  disseminated  around  the  shores  of  the  lake ,  this 
perambulating  orchestra  consisted  generally  of  two 
musicians,  one  played  the  flute,  the  other  a  species  of 
mandolin.  The  two  instruments  united  created  a 
melody  which  with  us  has  the  exclusive  privilege  of 
making  bears  and  puppies  dance.  I  counted  sixty-six 
of  these  musicians,  and  they  all,  more  or  less,  had  as 
much  as  they  could  do. 

At  the  height  of  the  feuta  the  shrine  of  Saint 
Nicholas  was  brought  out  of  the  church  where  it  was 


THE   SPERONARA  73 

kept.  Instantly  the  dances  ceased ;  every  one  ran  to 
take  his  or  her  place  in  the  escort,  and  the  procession 
began  to  make  the  tour  of  the  lake,  accompanied  by 
the  ceaseless  explosion  of  quantities  of  little  pop- 
guns. This  new  exercise  lasted  about  an  hour  and 
a  half;  then  the  shrine  re-entered  the  church  with  the 
priests,  and  the  crowd  scattered  itself  again  around 
the  lake.  As  it  was  late  and  I  had  seen  as  much  of 
the  fete  as  I  wished  to  see,  I  took  leave  of  the  cap- 
tain, who  made  a  sign  to  Pietro  and  Giovanni. 
Instantly  abandoning  their  partners  in  the  dance 
without  saying  a  word  to  excuse  themselves,  the  good 
fellows  flew  to  take  me  round  by  sea  in  the  boat  of 
the  speronara  in  order  to  spare  me  the  six  miles1  walk 
to  Messina.  I  tried  to  refuse,  but  it  was  quite  impos- 
sible ;  Giovanni  made  so  many  entreaties  and  Pietro 
so  many  capers,  and  both  set  so  high  a  value  on  the 
honour  of  taking  back  His  Excellency,  that  His 
Excellency,  who  in  the  depths  of  his  heart  was  glad 
enough  to  lie  in  a  good  boat  instead  of  plodding 
back  on  legs  that  were  tired  with  carrying  him  in 
a  heat  of  'i.5  degrees  Rcamur  from  eight  in  the  morn- 
ing till  five  at  night,  ended  by  accepting,  promising 
himself,  it  is  true,  to  make  up  to  the  friendly  pair 
for  the  pleasure  they  lost.  So  we  all  three  \\'cnt 
down  chattering  to  Delia  Pace ;  they  hat  in  hand, 
and  I  vainly  endeavouring  the  whole  way  to  make 
them  put  their  hats  on  their  heads.  Reaching  the 
captain's  door,  they  untied  the  boat,  into  which  I 
jumped,  and  the  tide  serving,  we  began,  without 
great  fatigue  to  the  honest  fellows,  the  row  to 
Messina. 


74  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

I  found  Jadin  as  well  as  I  could  reasonably  expect; 
he  had  sent  away  the  doctor,  giving  him  three 
piastres  and  calling  him  an  old  scamp.  As  the 
latter  did  not  speak  French  and  could  understand 
only  that  part  of  the  harangue  that  was  made  visible, 
he  took  leave  of  Jadin  by  kissing  his  hands. 

I  now  ordered  horses  to  l)e  put  to  a  species  of 
vehicle  which  the  landlord  had  the  audacity  to 
palm  off  upon  me  as  a  caleche,  and  we  started  to  take 
a  turn  on  the  Marina.  In  southern  climates  there  is 
a  period  of  the  twenty-four  hours  that  is  truly 
delicious ;  it  is  from  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  till  two 
in  the  morning.  One  really  lives  during  those  hours 
only  ;  contrary  to  the  customs  of  our  northern  cli- 
mate, it  is  at  night  that  Italians  are  awake.  The 
doors  and  windows  of  the  houses  are  opened,  the 
streets  grow  lively,  the  squares  are  filled  with  people. 
A  cool  breeze  drives  away  the  leaden  atmosphere  that 
lias  weighed  all  day  on  Ixxly  and  mind.  Heads  are 
raised,  women  resume  their  smiles,  flowers  give  out 
their  perfume,  mountains  take  on  their  violet  tints, 
the  sea  casts  up  its  briny  odour,  and  life,  that  seemed 
well-nigh  extinct,  revives,  and  flows  through  the 
veins  with  a  strange  increase  of  sensuous  joy. 

We  remained  two  hours  doing  corno  on  the 
Marina  ;  then  we  passed  another  hour  at  the  theatre 
listening  to  "  Norma.r>  That  reminded  me  of  my 
dear  and  good  Bellini,  who  gave  me  letters  for  Naples 
on  my  departure  from  France,  and  made  me  promise 
that  if  I  went  to  Catania,  his  native  place,  I  would 
go  and  see  his  old  father  and  carry  news  of  him.  I 
was  (juite  resolved  to  keep  my  promise  religiously, 


THE   SPERONARA  75 

little  dreaming  that  the  news  I  should  give  the 
old  man  would  l)e  the  last  he  would  ever  receive  of 
his  son. 

The  next  morning  at  a  quarter  to  eleven  the  cap- 
tain arrived  with  his  accustomed  punctuality  ;  Jadin 
took  charge  of  settling  with  the  landlord  and  of 
provisioning  the  vessel,  by  the  help  of  Giovanni  and 
Pietro,  with  fruits  and  wine ;  and  I  went  off  with 
the  captain  to  pav  my  visit  to  the  head  of  the 
Messinese  police.  We  found  him,  contrary  to  cus- 
tom, an  amiable  man  of  good  society.  He  was 
intimate  with  the  doctor  who  had  treated  Jadin,  and 
had  spoken  of  us  very  favourably.  I  related  to  him 
the  story  of  Cama,  how  he  had  forgotten  his  pass- 
port in  his  haste  to  follow  a  worthy  appreciator  of 
Rolando,  and  how  his  refusal  to  change  his  name, 
which  was  really  a  proof  of  the  integrity  of  his  soul, 
had  led  to  his  arrest.  The  head  of  the  police  asked 
the  captain  if  he  would  give  him  his  word  of  honour 
that  Cama  should  stay  on  board  the  speronura  and 
not  land  anywhere  during  the  rest  of  the  voyage. 
I  permitted  myself  to  observe  to  the  great  authority 
that  I  had  brought  a  cook  to  cook,  and  not  as  an 
object  of  luxury.  I  added  that  as  he  was  sea-sick 
from  the  moment  he  set  foot  on  the  vessel  he  was 
perfectly  useless  to  me  aboard,  and  I  had  therefore 
counted  on  his  services  ashore  by  way  of  compensa- 
tion. But  in  vain  did  I  argue  in  my  best  manner ; 
the  sentence  was  pronounced  and  the  judge  would 
not  rescind  it.  It  is  true  that  he  offered  me  an 
alternative,  namely  :  to  leave  Cama  in  prison  during 
the  journey  and  bike  him  out  on  my  return,  when 


76  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

he  would  give  me  a  certificate,  which,  by  stating  that 
my  cook  had  remained  in  Messina  for  a  cause  inde- 
pendent of  my  will  and  could  only  be  attributed  to 
the  cook\s  own  fault,  would  release  me  from  the 
obligation  of  paying  his  wages.  But  I  had  pity  on 
poor  Cama.  The  captain  pledged  his  word,  and  the 
chief  of  police  gave  in  exchange  the  order  for  the 
release  of  the  prisoner.  I  left  the  captain  to  take 
him  out  of  prison,  and,  requesting  him  to  be  opposite 
to  the  Marina  at  three  o'clock  punctually,  I  returned 
to  the  hotel. 

There  I  found  Jadin  in  high  discussion  with  the  inn- 
keeper, who  insisted  on  charging  him  for  breakfasts 
lie  had  never  eaten,  under  pretext  that  our  rooms  were 
each  two  piastres  a  day  including  meals,  eaten  or  not 
eaten  ;  consequently  he  presented  an  additional  reck- 
oning of  eighteen  francs  for  lemonade,  barley- water, 
etc.  After  a  firm  threat  on  our  part  to  complain  to 
the  authorities  of  such  robbery,  it  was  agreed  that  all 
that  Jadin  had  swallowed,  no  matter  of  what  nature 
the  absorption  might  be,  should  be  reckoned  as  food. 
So  the  matter  ended  in  his  lemonade  and  slops  being 
considered  in  lieu  of  cutlets  and  beefsteak;  on  which 
the  landlord  let  us  oft',  and  begged  us  to  recommend 
htm  to  our  friends. 

At  three  o'clock  Pietro  and  Giovanni,  who  had 
constituted  themselves  our  servants,  came  to  fetch 
our  trunks.  The  wind  was  fair  and  the  speronani 
was  awaiting  us  to  set  sail  at  once.  The  first  person 
I  saw  on  Ixwrd  was  Cama.  Prison  had  done  him  a 
world  of  good;  his  eyes  and  lips  were  their  natural 
si/e,  so  that  he  now  looked  more  like  a  human  being. 


THE  SPERONARA  77 

Moreover,  his  incarceration  had  made  him  trac- 
table, and  he  was  ready  now  to  take  any  name  I 
chose  to  give  him.  Unfortunately,  this  patronymical 
abnegation  came  too  late. 

But  with  his  health  Cama  laid  claim  to  his  culi- 
nary rights.  He  had  dressed  himself  in  his  very 
best  clothes  to  awe  whosoever  might  attempt  to 
usurp  his  functions.  He  wore  a  blue  linen  cap,  blue 
jacket,  nankeen  trousers,  a  kitchen  apron  coquet- 
tishly  caught  up  at  one  corner,  and  he  rested  his 
left  hand  proudly  on  the  handle  of  a  knife  passed 
through  his  Jbelt.  Giovanni  had  neither  linen  cap, 
nor  blue  jacket,  nor  nankeen  trousers,  nor  a  festooned 
apron,  nor  a  kitchen  knife  stuck  coquettishly  into 
his  belt;  but  he  had  antecedents,  respectable  ante- 
cedents, and  among  them  was  the  breakfast  he  had 
cooked  for  me  the  day  before  at  the  captain's  house. 
Neither  did  he  seem  at  all  disposed  to  make  the 
slightest  concession.  He  had,  moreover,  a  powerful 
auxiliary,  in  the  person  of  Milord,  who  until  now 
had  recognized  him  as  the  rightful  distributor  of 
bones  and  scraps,  and  was  fully  prepared  to  support 
those  rights.  I  saw  that  the  matter  was  gradually 
becoming  unpleasant,  so,  not  wishing  to  vex  either 
of  these  good  fellows,  I  called  up  the  captain,  told 
him  that  we  would  not  dine  for  a  couple  of  hours, 
and,  as  the  wind  was  fair,  I  begged  him  to  sail  at 
once.  Immediately  all  the  men  were  called  to  work 
the  ship,  Giovanni  among  them.  As  for  C'ama,  he 
descended  triumphantly  to  the  culinary  regions. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  Giovanni,  descending 
in  his  turn,  found  his  rival  lying  at  full  length  among 


78  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

his  pots  and  pans.  That  which  I  foresaw  had  hap- 
pened. Sea-sickness  had  produced  its  effect.  Caina 
claimed  no  more  than  a  mattress  and  permission  to 
be  on  deck.  The  fussiness  of  the  chief  of  police  had 
provided  him  with  a  very  easy  voyage.  Giovanni 
triumphed  without  ostentation.  Dinner  was  ready 
at  the  hour  I  had  named  and  proved  to  be  excellent. 
The  captain  shared  it,  and  it  was  agreed,  once  for 
all,  that  he  should  do  so  daily.  At  dessert  I  noticed 
that  Master  Peppino  did  not  appear,  and  I  a^ked  for 
him.  I  was  then  told  that  his  mother  had  kept 
him  at  home.  Gaetano  also,  seized  with  a  sort  of 
ophthalmia,  had  remained  ashore. 

During  dinner  the  captain  told  us  about  the  storm. 
Not  without  good  reason  had  his  wife  been  terrified 
for  son  and  husband;  six  vessels  had  been  lost  during 
the  eighteen  hours  the  tempest  lasted. 

Until  night  we  kept  to  the  middle  of  the  Sf raits, 
at  about  equal  distance  from  the  coast  of  Sicily  and 
the  coast  of  Calabria.  On  both  sides  luxurious  vege- 
tation seemed  to  bathe  its  very  roots  in  the  sea. 
We  passed  thus  before  Contessi,  Reggio,  Pistorera, 
Sanf  Agata,  until,  through  the  twilight  mists  we 
saw  the  lovely  village  of  La  Scaletta.  Then  night 
fell,  one  of  those  delicious,  limpid,  fragrant  nights, 
o'f  which  a  man  has  no  conception  if  he  has  never 
left  the  North.  We  dragged  our  mattresses  to  the 
deck,  threw  ourselves  upon  them  and  were  soon 
asleep,  rocked  by  the  motion  of  the  waves  and  the 
song  of  our  mariners.  When  we  opened  our  eves  it 
was  four  in  the  morning  and  we  were  lying  at  anchor 
off  Giardini,  the  port  of  the  ancient  Tauromenium, 


THE   SPERONARA  79 

where  Heracles,  holding  the  horn  of  his  strongest  ox, 
Landed  from  Rhegium  and  stabled  his  herd,  in  the 
days  of  old. 

The  aspect  of  Taormina  threw  us  into  ecstasy. 
To  our  left,  adorning  the  horixon,  rose  yEtna,  that 
pillar  of  heaven,  as  Pindar  calls  it,  defining  its  violet 
masses  in  a  ruddy  atmosphere  permeated  with  the 
rays  of  the  rising  sun.  Nearer  to  us,  crouching  at 
the  feet  of  the  giant,  were  two  tawny  foothills  look- 
ing as  though  they  were  covered  by  some  huge  lion's 
skin  ;  while  before  us,  in  the  curve  of  the  little  bay, 
were  a  few  poor  fishing-houses  at  the  edge  of  the 
sea  that  was  now  like  a  mirror  of  burnished  steel. 
Above  its  port,  rose,  to  the  right,  the  ancient 
Naxian  town  of  Tauromenium.  The  town  itself  is 
commanded  by  a  mountain,  Monte  Yen  ere,  and  by 
a  peak  on  the  apex  of  which  stands  the  Saracenic 
village  of  Mola,  which  can  be  reached  only  by  a 
stone  ladder-way. 

When  we  had  well  considered  this  scene,  so  mag- 
nificent, so  splendid  that  Jadin  never  once  thought 
of  sketching  it,  we  turned  towards  the  east.  The  sun 
had  risen  majestically  and  was  kindling  the  summits 
of  the  Calabrian  mountains,  while  their  western 
slopes  still  lay  in  semi-tones  and  tints  in  which  we 
could  distinguish  valleys  and  ravines  by  their  darker 
shades,  and  villages  and  towns  by  their  whiteness. 
As  the  sun  rose  higher  in  the  heavens  all  changed 
colour,  houses  and  mountains;  the  burnished  sea 
grew  dazzling,  and  when  again  we  turned,  that  first 
scene,  too,  had  lost  its  weird,  fantastic  tints:  .Etna 
had  returned  to  her  puissant  and  majestic  reality. 


80  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

We  landed,  and  after  a  rapid  climb  of  half  nn 
hour  by  a  narrow,  stony  path,  we  reached  the  walls 
cf  the  town,  built  of  black  lava,  yellow  stone,  and 
reddish  brick.  Though  the  first  asj>ect  of  the  town 
looks  Moorish,  the  pointed  arch  of  the  gate  is  Nor- 
man. We  entered  and  found  ourselves  in  a  narrow, 
dirty  street,  leading  to  a  square,  in  the  centre  of 
which  was  a  fountain  surmounted  by  a  singular 
statue  —  the  head  and  shoulders  of  an  angel  of  the 
14th  century  grafted  upon  the  body  of  an  antique 
bull.  The  angel  is  of  white  marble,  the  bull  of  red 
granite.  The  angel  holds  in  her  left  hand  a  globe 
to  which  is  affixed  a  cross,  in  the  other  hand  a 
sceptre.  A  church,  standing  opposite,  has  two  re- 
markable decorations ;  first,  the  six  marble  columns 
that  support  it;  and  next,  two  Gothic  lions,  couchant 
at  the  foot  of  the  baptismal  font,  and  bearing  the 
arms  of  the  town,  namely,  a  female  centaur.  This 
last  sculpture  seems  to  explain  the  one  in  the  square. 

The  Greek  theatre  is  the  point  to  which  the  feet 
of  travellers  tend  along  the  sunny  street.  It  was 
hewn  in  the  rock,  semicircular  in  shape,  of  a  size 
to  hold  twenty-five  thousand  persons.  It  is  now  a 
ruin,  a  ruin  peopled  with  memories;  but  the  traveller 
who  comes  to  visit  it  is  wont,  when  there,  to  look 
more  at  the  vast  panorama  unrolling  before  him  than 
at  the  crumbling  cunei,  or  at  the  well-preserved 
stage,  disfigured  on  one  side  by  Roman  brick. 
There,  to  the  right,  is  vEtna,  developed  in  all  the 
immensity  of  her  base,  which  is  well-nigh  two  hun- 
dred miles  in  circumference,  and  in  the  majesty  of 
her  height,  which  is  10,600  feet;  2000  less  than"  Mt. 


THE   SPERONARA  81 

Blanc,  6000  more  than  Vesuvius.  To  the  left,  the 
chain  of  the  Apennines  trends  down  behind  Rcggio, 
and,  like  a  kneeling  bull,  protrudes  its  head  and 
presents  its  horns  to  the  sea,  which  breaks  and  foams 
against  the  Cape  Dell1  Anni.  On  the  horixon, 
heaven  and  earth  are  blending,  and  far  away 
stretches  the  shore  to  the  right,  all  strewn  with  sites 
and  cities  that  bear  the  names  of  Naxos,  Aci-Reale, 
home  of  Acis  and  Galatea,  the  Cy elope  isles,  Catania, 
the  Laestrygonian  fields,  that  granary  of  Sicily,  Me- 
gara  Ilyblam,  home  of  bees  and  honey,  and  lastlv, 
before  the  coast  turns  southward  to  Cape  Passero, 
Siracusa,  more  Greek  in  living  memories  than  Greece 
itself. 

Nature's  instruction  for  an  artist  can  no  farther  go 
than  at  Taormina;  yet  he  knows  not  whether  what 
he  feels  is  exquisite  pleasure  or  unspeakable  pain. 
That  which  he  sees,  he  can  never  represent  by  his 
art;  true,  it  permeates  his  soul  and  thence  his  art, 
although  no  pen,  or  brush,  or  voice  can  portray  it. 
There  are  two  brief  moments  at  Taormina  that  will 
never  be  forgotten  by  one  who  has  known  them  :  at 
evening,  when  the  sun  is  setting  behind  .'Etna,  and 
the  shadow  of  the  great  mountain  is  cast  upon  the 
Calabrian  hills,  the  forests  and  uplands  glowing  with 
purples  melting  into  blues  and  violets  into  crimsons, 
on  which  the  slow-rising  column  from  the  crater  is 
defined  as  clearly  as  it  is  upon  the  sky  behind  it. 
Seen  from  the  upper  prax-inctio  of  the  temple,  with 
one's  feet  among  the  acanthus  and  iris  and  cyclamen 
and  the  rosy  Sicilian  thrift,  there  is  no  wealth  of  rich 
colour  to  compare  with  it. 

6 


82  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

And  again  :  before  dawn,  watch  the  calm,  white 
bosom  of  the  mountain,  with  its  tracery  of  blue 
veins,  until  the  sun,  rising  from  the  waters  of  the 
Ionian  sea,  touches  the  cone  of  the  crater  for  one 
brief  instant  with  a  rosy  glow  and  makes  you  think 
it  is  the  nipple  of  the  breast  of  the  world. 

These  magnificent  sights  blunted,  I  must  confess, 
our  curiosity  for  other  things.  Still,  as  a  matter  of 
conscience,  I  visited  the  Naumachia,  the  piscines,  the 
baths,  the  temple  of  Apollo,  and  the  remarkable  Ro- 
man aqueduct  still  flowing  brightly  along  its  mossy 
way.  But  early  the  next  morning  we  were  glad  to 
quit  the  squalid  den  they  called  an  inn,  and  descend- 
ing the  precipitous  path,  half  slipping,  half  rolling, 
and  beckoning  to  the  captain,  whom  we  saw  on  deck, 
to  send  a  boat,  we  were  soon  on  board. 

Decidedly,  Giovanni  was  a  great  man.  He  knew 
that  after  an  excursion  into  those  regions  we  could 
not  fail  to  be  hungry.  In  consequence,  he  set  to 
work,  and  soon  our  breakfast  was  ready  for  us. 

Travellers  who  journey  in  Sicily  !  in  heaven's  name 
bike  a  speronara.  With  a  speronara,  above  all  with 
that,  if  possible,  of  my  friend  Captain  Arena,  you 
can  cat  (if  you  are  not  actually  sea-sick)  ;  in  the  inns 
you  can  never  eat.  And  let  this  be  taken  literally: 
in  Sicily  there  is  nothing  to  eat  but  what  you  carry 
with  you;  it  is  not  the  publicans  who  feed  the  tra\- 
eller,  but  the  traveller  who  feeds  the  publicans.  1 

1  This  is  not  so  now.  There  is  a  charming  little  inn  at  Taor- 
uiin.'i,  close  to  the  Greek  theatre  (unless  modern  improvements 
have  spoilt  it)  where  good  food,  plenty  of  fruit,  and  cleanliness 
will  help  to  make  a  stay  of  weeks  unspeakably  delightful.  —  TR. 


IV 

CATANIA.     SAN   NICOLA    IL   VECCHIO 

WHILE  the  captain  was  ashore  getting  his 
permit  to  sail  we  made  an  excellent  break- 
fast. By  midday  he  returned  and  at  once  we  weighed 
anchor.  A  pretty  wind  enabled  us  to  make  six  miles 
an  hour,  so  that  by  three  o'clock,  or  thereabouts, 
we  were  ofF  the  heights  of  Aci-Ileale,  where  I  had 
told  the  captain  I  wished  to  land.  Consequently,  he 
steered  for  a  species  of  little  creek,  whence  a  zigzag 
path  led  up  to  the  town,  which  looks  down  upon  the 
sea  from  a  height  of  some  three  or  four  hundred  feet. 

This  meant  a  new  permit  to  get,  and  the  delay  of 
an  hour  to  endure ;  after  which  we  were  authorized 
to  enter  the  town.  Jadin  followed  me  with  confi- 
dence, not  knowing  what  I  was  going  to  do  there. 

Aci  appeared  to  be  a  rather  fine  and  symmetrically 
built  place.  Its  walls  gave  it  a  formidable  little  air, 
of  which  it  seemed  to  be  proud.  But  I  had  not 
come  to  see  walls  and  houses ;  I  was  in  search  of 
something  better;  I  was  seeking  the  son  of  Poseidon 
and  Thusa.  As  I  felt  sure  lie  would  not  come  to 
meet  me,  I  determined  to  address  a  gentleman  who 
was  walking  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street.  I  went 
towards  him,  and  seeing  that  I  was  a  foreigner  he 
stopped,  thinking  that  I  wanted  information. 


84  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  Monsieur,""  I  said,  "  may  I  without  indiscretion 
ask  you  the  way  to  the  grotto  of  Polyphemus  ? " 

"The  way  to  the  grotto  of  Polyphemus?  Ho! 
ho ! "  said  the  gentleman,  looking  at  me,  —  "  the  way 
to  the  grotto  of  Polyphemus  ?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur."" 

"  You  are  mistaken,  monsieur,  by  nearly  a  mile. 
It  is  beyond  here,  going  towards  Catania.  You  will 
recognize  its  port  by  four  rocks  which  advance  into 
the  sea  and  which  Virgil  calls  cyclopea  saxa,  and  Pliny 
calls  scojndi  cyclopum.  You  must  land  in  the  port 
of  Ulysses ;  then  if  you  advance  in  a  straight  line, 
turning  your  back  to  the  sea,  you  will  h'nd,  between 
the  village  of  Aci-San-Filippo  and  that  of  Nizetti, 
the  grotto  of  Polyphemus." 

The  gentleman  bowed  to  me  and  continued  his 
way. 

"Well!  there's  a  man  who  seems  to  possess  his 
cyclops  pretty  well,"  said  Jadin ;  **  his  directions  are 
clear." 

"  Therefore,  unless  you  have  something  particular 
to  do  here,  we  will  return  on  board,  if  you  like." 

"  Learn,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Jadin,  "  that  I  never 
have  anything  to  do  in  40  degrees  of  heat,  that  I 
have  come  solely  to  follow  you,  and  that,  henceforth, 
when  you  are  not  more  certain  of  your  friends'  ad- 
dress I  will  thank  you  to  leave  me  on  board,  me  and 
Milord.  Is  n't  that  so,  Milord  ? " 

Milord  lolled  out  a  tongue  half  a  foot  long  and 
red  as  fire,  —  a  grimace,  joined  to  the  active  manner 
in  which  he  began  to  pant,  that  showed  me  he  was 
precisely  of  his  master's  opinion. 


THE  SPERONARA  85 

We  returned  to  the  shore  and  re-embarked.  At 
the  end  of  half  an  hour  I  saw,  l>eyond  a  doubt,  the 
four  cyclopean  rocks,  the  spot  indicated.  I  asked 
the  captain  if  the  little  roadstead  that  I  saw  \vas 
really  the  Porto  Ulissi.  He  answered  yes.  We 
therefore  cast  anchor  precisely  where  ./Eneas  did  the 
same  thing.  Such  is  the  power  of  genius  that  after 
the  lapse  of  three  thousand  years,  this  port  hits  pre- 
served the  name  given  to  it  by  Homer,  and  here, 
to  the  peasants,  the  history  of  Ulysses  and  his  com- 
panions, perpetuated  as  a  tradition,  not  only  across 
the  centuries,  but  also  across  the  many  successive 
rulers  of  Sicily  —  Siccans,  Spaniards,  Carthagenians, 
Romans,  Greek  emperors,  Goths,  Saracens,  Nor- 
mans, Angevins,  Aragoncse,  Austrians,  Bourbons 
of  France,  and  Dues  de  Savoie  —  seems  as  living 
as  the  most  national  traditions  of  the  middle  ages 
are  to  us. 

Thus  the  first  child  from  whom  I  asked  my  way 
to  the  grotto  of  Polyphemus  ran  l)efore  me  instantly 
to  show  it.  As  for  Jadin,  instead  of  following  me, 
lie  threw  himself  gallantly  into  the  sea,  on  a  pretext 
of  looking  for  Galatea.  Yes,  it  can  all  be  found  ; 
with  proportions  less  gigantic,  perhaps,  than  in  the 
poesy  of  Homer,  Virgil  and  Ovid,  but  the  grotto  of 
Polyphemus  and  of  Galatea  is  still  there  after  thirty 
centuries  ;  the  rock  that  crushed  Acis  is  there,  covered 
and  protected  by  a  Norman  fortress  that  took  his 
name.  Acis  was  changed,  it  is  true,  into  a  river 
called  to-day  the  Aqua-grande,  for  which  I  searched 
in  vain  ;  they  showed  me  his  Ixnl,  which  came  to  the 
same  thing.  I  supposed  he  had  gone  to  sleep  else- 


86  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

where ;  with  the  thermometer  at  50  degrees  of  heat 
one  ought  not  to  be  too  severe  on  the  morality  of 
rivers. 

I  looked  also  for  the  forest  from  which  ^Eneas  saw 
the  unfortunate  Aehemenides,  forgotten  by  Ulvsses, 
emerging,  whom  he  welcomed  himself,  although  a 
Greek ;  but  the  forest  has  disappeared,  or  nearly  so. 

Night  was  beginning  to  fall ;  the  sun  that  I  had  seen 
rising  from  the  Ionian  sea  was  disappearing,  little  by 
little,  behind  yEtna.  A  gun  fired  on  board  the  sper- 
onara  was  evidently  intended  to  remind  me  that  after 
a  certain  hour  I  could  not  embark.  As  I  did  not 
care  to  sleep  in  a  grotto,  even  that  of  Galatea  —  for 
I  was  too  little  like  her  handsome  shepherd  to  deceive 
her  —  I  made  my  way  back  to  the  speronara.  I 
found  Jadin  furious.  The  dinner  was  spoilt ;  and 
he  assured  me  that  if  I  continued  to  keep  such  bad 
company  as  cyclops,  nereids  and  swains  lie  would 
leave  me  and  go  his  own  wav. 

The  next  morning  our  awakening  was  far  from 
picturesque ;  the  beauties  of  Taormina  were  left 
behind;  I  fancied  I  was  before  a  church  draped  for 
a  funeral.  We  were  in  the  harbour  of  Catania, 

Catania  stands  like  an  island  between  two  rivers 
of  black  lava.  The  most  ancient  of  these,  that  on 
her  right,  came  down  in  1381  ;  the  other,  which 
presses  on  her  left,  is  of  1669.  Checked  bv  the  sea, 
which  at  first  it  drove  back  two-thirds  of  a  mile,  the 
lava  ended  by  chilling  and  stiffening  into  a  monstrous 
cliff  full  of  fantastic  and  gloomy  excavations,  like  so 
many  gates  of  hell,  which  are  peopled,  in  whimsical 
constrast  by  white  doves  and  swallows.  As  for  the 


THE  SPERONARA  87 

port,  its  bottom  is  half-filled  with  the  coal-black 
lava,  so  that  none  but  small  vessels  can  enter  it. 

While  the  captain  had  gone  for  pratique  we 
jumped  into  a  boat,  gun  in  hand,  and  made  an 
excursion  among  these  caves,  which  resulted  in  the 
death  of  several  pigeons  destined  to  serve  as  a  roast 
at  dinner.  The  captain  returned  with  permission  to 
land,  by  which  we  profited  instantly,  for  I  was 
resolved  to  employ  the  next  day  and  the  dav  after  in 
climbing  /Etna,  which,  in  the  opinion  of  the  people 
of  the  region  themselves,  is  no  light  matter.  Ten 
minutes  later  we  were  at  the  Corona  d1  Oro,  kept 
by  Signer  Abbate,  whom  I  name  out  of  gratitude ; 
because,  against  all  precedents,  we  found  something 
to  eat  in  his  hostelry. 

Catania  was  founded,  so  says  Thucydides,  by  the 
Chalcidians  in  729,  five  years  after  Naxos  ;  accord- 
ing to  other  authors,  by  the  Phoenicians,  at  a  period 
when  the  eruptions  of  /Etna  were  not  only  rare  but 
still  unknown,  for  Homer,  in  speaking  of  the  moun- 
tain, makes  no  mention  of  its  being  a  volcano.  It 
was  here  that  the  Athenians  landed  when  they 
dreamed  of  conquering  that  Sicily  which  became  their 
tomb.  Alcibiades  commanded  them  ;  his  reputation 
for  beauty,  gallantry,  and  eloquence  preceding  him. 
He  arrived  before  Catania  and  asked  to  be  allowed  to 
enter  the  city  alone  and  speak  with  the  Catanesc ; 
if  the  Catanese  had  been  men  only  his  request  might 
perhaps  have  been  refused,  but  the  women  of  Catania 
insisted  on  receiving  him  ;  Alcibiades  was  conducted 
to  the  circus,  and  all  the  city  went  with  him.  There 
the  pupil  of  Socrates  made  one  of  his  Ionian  ha- 


88  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

rangucs,so  gentle, so  flattering,  so  eloquent,  so  terrible, 
so  specious,  so  threatening.  Even  the  guards  at  the 
gates  abandoned  their  posts  and  came  to  listen  to 
him.  This  was  foreseen  by  Aleibiadcs,  whose  sin  was 
not  modesty,  and  Nicias,  his  lieutenant,  took  advan- 
tage of  it  to  bring  the  Athenian  fleet  into  the  harbour, 
which  at  that  time  was  not  choked  with  lava,  and 
seize  the  city  without  opposition.  Then  came,  sixty 
years  later,  Dionysius  the  elder,  fresh  from  the  con- 
quest of  Syracuse,  then  Mamercus,  then,  549  years 
after  the  foundation  of  the  citv,  came  the  Romans, 
those  great  invaders,  who  began  by  pillaging ;  they 
sent  their  spoils  to  Rome,  which  was  then  poor 
Rome,  the  Rome  of  mud  and  thatch,  so  she  was 
keenly  alive  to  such  gifts.  Conquests  went  on  and 
soon  Rome  was  enriched,  and  then  Rome  began  to 
feel  generous.  Marcellus  determined  to  make  the 
Sicilians  forget  the  way  in  which  Rome  had  treated 
them  at  first.  He  had  a  mania  for  building  ;  wher- 
ever he  went  he  built  fountains,  aqueducts,  theatres  ; 
at  Catania  he  built  a  gymnasium  and  prolxibly  the 
baths.  Consequently  Verres  found  the  city  so  flour- 
ishing that  he  deigned  to  cast  his  eyes  upon  her. 
They  told  him  of  a  temple  to  Demeter  that  contained 
a  beauteous  statue  known  only  to  women,  for  men 
were  not  allowed  to  enter  that  temple.  Verres,  by 
nature  ungallant,  declared  that  women  had  privileges 
enough  without  that  one;  so  he  entered  the  temple 
and  took  the  statue,  which  went  with  his  other 
spoils.  Not  long  after,  Sextus  1'ompeius  pillaged 
Catania  in  his  turn,  on  pretence  that  it  had  l)een  too 
lukewarm  towards  his  father  in  his  quarrels  with 


THE   SPERONARA  89 

Caesar  —  in  short,  it  was  high  time  Augustus  came 
when  he  did  come. 

He  indeed,  ah !  he  was  the  rectifier-general,  the 
universal  pacificator.  In  his  youth,  carried  away  by 
force  of  example,  he  had,  it  is  true,  proscribed  a  lit- 
tle, just  to  keep  in  line  with  Lepidus  and  Antony; 
but  he  took  on  age,  called  himself  tribune  of  the 
people,  and  not  impcrator  —  so  said  the  republicans 
of  that  day.  He  loved  bucolics,  georgics,  and  idylls, 
the  songs  of  shepherds,  the  rivalry  of  flutes,  the  bab- 
bling of  brooks.  In  short,  he  was  the  god  who  gave 
rest  to  the  world.  Catania  felt  the  blessing  of  that 
good  reign.  Augustus  built  up  her  walls  and  sent 
her  a  colony  which  became  the  most  flourishing  in 
Sicily,  even  to  the  times  of  Theodosius.  But  after 
the  death  of  the  latter  her  tribulations  began  again. 
Greeks,  Saracens,  and  Normans  succeeded  one  another, 
and  treated  her  much  as  Valerius,  Verres,  and  Sextus 
Pompeius  had  done.  Finally,  and  not  to  speak  of 
her  miseries  from  Goths,  Saracens,  and  Normans,  as 
if  to  crown  these  successive  depredations,  came  an 
earthquake  in  1169,  which  overthrew  the  city  and 
left  not  a  single  house  standing.  Fifteen  thousand 
persons  perished.  The  shock  over,  those  who  escaped 
it  returned  to  their  ruins  like  birds  to  their  nest,  and, 
with  the  help  of  William  the  Good,  they  rebuilt  the 
city.  It  was  scarcely  up  before  Henry  VI.,  in  a 
moment  of  ill-temper,  set  fire  to  it  and  put  all  the 
inhabitants  to  the  sword.  Luckily  a  few  saved  them- 
selves. Those  who  escaped  the  father,  conspired 
against  the  son.  Frederick  Barbarossa  was  a  chip  of 
the  old  block  ;  he  reburned  the  city  and  again  put 


90  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

the  people  to  the  sword.  After  Henry  and  Frederick 
nothing  could  be  worse  than  the  plague,  so  that  came 
in  1348,  and  depopulated  Catania.  Little  by  little, 
in  the  course  of  centuries,  the  ill-fated  city  Recovered 
from  these  successive  scourges,  the  first  Sicilian  uni- 
versity was  established,  and  she  bore  the  palm  of 
being  the  literary  centre  of  the  island,  when,  in  1669, 
a  flood  of  lava,  thirty  miles  long  and  three  miles  wide, 
issued  from  Monte  Rosso,  came  down  upon  her,  cover- 
ing three  villages  on  its  way,  sapping  her  foundations 
and  pushing  her  into  her  port,  which  it  choked  and 
rendered  worthless  forever. 

Now  there  is  the  history  of  Catania  for  twenty-six 
centuries ;  and  yet  that  obstinate  town  has  sprung 
up  again  in  the  same  spot,  each  time  driving  its 
stone  roots  deeper  and  deeper  into  that  unstable  and 
treacherous  soil.  More  than  that :  Catania  is,  bar- 
ring Messina,  the  richest  city  in  Sicily. 

As  soon  as  breakfast  was  over,  we  set  out  to  see  the 
town.  Our  guide  took  us  direct  to  its  two  squares. 
I  have  observed  that  guides  always  take  you  at  once 
to  the  squares.  For  this  I  am  very  much  obliged  to 
them,  because,  once  seen,  we  are  rid  of  them.  The 
squares  of  Catania  are,  like  the  squares  of  all  other 
cities,  great  empty  spaces  surrounded  by  houses ;  the 
larger  the  space,  the  finer  the  square  ;  that  is  agreed 
to  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  One  of  the  squares  in 
Catania  is  surrounded  by  insignificant  buildings ;  I 
do  not  know  what  such  constructions  are;  they  are 
not  houses,  they  are  not  public  buildings  ;  the  people 
call  them  palaces  —  much  good  may  that  do  them  ! 
The  other  square  is  rather  more  picturesque ;  that 


THE   SPERONARA  91 

is,  it  is  a  little  more  irregular.  In  the  centre  rises  a 
marble  fountain,  surmounted  by  nn  elephant  in  lava, 
bearing  on  his  back  an  obelisk  of  granite.  Is  that 
obelisk,  or  is  it  not,  Egyptian  ?  That  is  the  grave 
question  that  rends  apart  the  archaeologists  of  Sicily. 
Such  as  it  is,  Egyptian  or  not,  one  thing  is  certain,  it 
served  as  sp'ma  to  the  circus  discovered  in  1820. 

It  was  in  this  square  that  I  happened  to  ask  my 
guide  if  he  knew  the  Signore  Bellini's  father.  At 
this  inquiry  he  turned  quickly  round  and,  pointing 
to  an  old  gentleman  who  was  driving  past  in  a  little 
carriage  with  one  horse,  he  said  :  "  There  he  is  now, 
going  into  the  country." 

I  ran  after  the  carriage  and  stopped  it,  thinking 
that  one  never  takes  a  liberty  in  speaking  to  a  father 
of  his  son,  and  a  son  like  this  one  especially.  At  the 
first  words  I  said  to  him  the  old  man  took  me  by 
both  hands  and  asked  if  I  really  knew  his  son.  I 
took  from  my  portfolio  a  letter  of  introduction 
which  Bellini  had  given  me,  just  as  I  left  Paris,  for 
the  Duchesse  de  Noja,  and  I  asked  him  if  he  knew 
the  handwriting.  The  poor  father  answered  onlv  by 
taking  it  in  his  hands  and  kissing  it ;  then,  turning 
to  me,  he  said  : 

"  Oh !  you  do  not  know  how  good  he  is  to  me ! 
We  are  not  rich ;  well,  after  every  success,  comes  a 
little  souvenir,  and  each  souvenir  is  chosen  so  as  to 
give  me  a  little  comfort  and  pleasure  in  my  old  age. 
If  you  will  come  home  with  me  I  will  show  you  a 
quantity  of  things  I  owe  to  his  filial  piety.  Each 
one  of  his  successes  crosses  the  sea  and  brings  me 
some  new  comfort.  This  watch,  that  came  from 


92  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

*  Norma ; "  this  horse  and  carriage  are  a  part  of  the 
profits  of  the  '  Puritani.'  In  every  letter  he  writes 
he  always  says  he  is  coming;  but  it  is  so  far  from 
Paris  to  Catania  that  I  can't  believe  in  that  promise, 
and  I  fear  I  shall  die  without  seeing  him.  But  you 
will  see  him  —  you  ! " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  for  I  believed  I  should  see  him 
again,  "and  if  you  have  any  commission  for  him  — 

"  No.  What  could  I  send  him,  I  !  my  blessing  ? 
Poor  boy !  I  give  him  that  day  and  night.  You 
must  tell  him  that  you  gave  me  a  happy  day  by 
speaking  of  him,  and  that  I  embraced  you.'"  Hie 
old  man  kissed  me.  "  But  you  must  not  tell  him 
that  I  wept.  Besides,"  he  added,  smiling,  "  I  weep 
for  jov.  Is  it  really  true  that  he  has  a  reputation, 
my  son  ? " 

"  The  highest  reputation,  I  do  assure  you." 

"What  a  strange  thing!  Who  could  have  told 
me  that  when  I  scolded  him  because,  instead  of 
working,  he  was  always  heating  time  with  his  feet 
and  making  his  little  sister  sing  our  old  Sicilian  airs. 
Well,  well ;  all  is  written  above.  But  I  wish  I  could 
see  him  again  before  I  die.  Does  your  friend  there 
know  him  too,  my  son  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Personally  ?  " 

"  Yes,  personally.  Mv  friend  is  himself  the  son  of 
a  distinguished  musician." 

"  Then  call  him  ;  I  should  like  to  shake  his  hand 
also." 

I  called  to  Jadin,  who  came.  It  was  then  his  turn 
to  be  cherished  and  caressed  by  the  poor  old  man, 


THE  SPERONAHA  93 

who  wanted  to  take  us  home  to  spend  the  day  with 
him.  But  this  was  impossible;  his  home  was  in  the 
country,  and  our  time  was  mapped  out.  We  prom- 
ised to  see  him  if  we  returned  by  way  of  Catania  ; 
then  he  pressed  my  hand  and  left  us.  Scarcely  had 
lie  driven  a  few  steps  before  he  called  to  me. 

"Your  name?  "he  said.  "I  forgot  to  ask  your 
name." 

I  told  it  to  him ;  but  the  name  brought  him  no 
recollections.  What  he  knew  of  his  own  child  was 
not  the  artist,  but  the  good  son. 

"  Alexandre  Dumas,  Alexandra    Dumas,""   he  re- 
peated.     "  Good ;   I   shall  remember   that   he   who 
bears  that  name  brought  me  good  news  of  my  — 
Alexandre  Dumas ;    I  shall  remember  your  name  ; 
adieu  !  adieu  ! " 

Poor  old  man  !  I  am  sure  he  has  not  forgotten  it, 
for  the  news  I  gave  him  of  his  son  was  the  last  he 
was  ever  to  receive. 

On  leaving  him  our  guide  took  us  to  the  Museum, 
a  modern  institution  wholly  made  up  of  antiquities. 
Catania  has  had  the  good  luck  of  possessing  a  rich 
jrignore  who  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  his  money 
and  was  an  artist  to  boot.  This  is  Don  Igna/io  di 
Patarno,  Prince  of  Biscari.  He  was  the  first  to 
remember  that  he  walked  on  another  Herculaneum, 
and  truly  royal  excavations  were  begun  by  a  private 
individual.  It  was  he  who  found  the  temple  of 
Demeter,  and  brought  to  sight  the  thermos,  the 
aqueducts,  the  basilica,  the  forum,  and  the  sepulchres. 
And  it  was  he  who  founded  the  Museum  and  col- 
lected and  classed  the  objects  it  contains  into  three 


94  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

classes  :  antiquities,  products  of  natural  history,  and 
curiosities.  Of  these  the  Sicilian  vases  are,  beyond 
a  doubt,  the  most  interesting  part  of  the  Museum, 
because  their  shapes  are  infinitely  varied,  and  nearly 
all  are  perfect  in  elegance.  As  for  the  idols,  penates, 
lamps,  etc.,  they  are  what  one  sees  everywhere. 

From  the  Museum  we  were  going  towards  the 
cathedral  along  the  rue  Saint-Ferdinand,  when  I 
called  to  Jadin,  who  was  behind  me. 

"Hold  Milord!"  I  said. 

"Why?" 

"  Hold  him  first ;  I  '11  tell  you  afterwards." 

Jadin  called  Milord  and  slipped  his  handkerchief 
through  his  collar. 

"  Now,"  said  I,  "  look  at  the  window  of  that 
optician." 

On  the  window  sat  a  cat,  trained  to  look  at  the 
passers-by  through  a  pair  of  spectacles  which  he  wore 
very  gravely  on  his  nose. 

"The  deuce  !"  said  Jadin,  "that  was  a  good  idea 
of  yours;  that  one  belongs  to  the  class  of  learned 
cats  ;  't  would  have  cost  us  more  than  two  pauls." 

Milord,  in  his  capacity  of  bull-dog,  was  so  great  a 
strangler  of  cats  that  we  had  found  it  necessary  to 
take  measures  accordingly.  Consequently,  after 
Genoa,  the  town  in  which  he  first  began  to  ransack 
Italy  for  the  feline  race,  we  had  debated  and  argued 
the  value  of  a  well-conditioned  cat;  and  it  was 
settled  with  the  owners  of  the  first  two  strangled 
ones  that  a  cat  of  usual  race,  dapple-gray,  striped 
gray,  tortoise-shell,  was  worth  a  maximum  price  of 
two  pauls ;  there  were,  of  course,  exceptions  to  this 


THE   SPERONARA  05 

tariff,  —  angoras,  learned  cats,  cats  with  two  heads  or 
six  paws.  We  had  exacted  a  receipt  in  due  form  for 
the  Genoese  cats  ;  to  this  we  added  successively  the 
subsequent  receipts,  so  that  we  now  possessed  an 
indisputable  title.  Every  time  that  Milord  com- 
mitted murder  and  more  than  two  pauls  was  de- 
manded of  usas  the  value  of  the  victim,  we  drew  our 
tariff  from  our  pocket  and  proved  that  two  pauls  was 
the  price  accepted  for  other  murders  ;  and  it  was  very 
rare  that  the  owner  did  not  content  himself  with 
what  had  satisfied  the  other  persons.  But,  as  I  have 
said,  there  were  exceptions,  and  a  cat  wearing  spec- 
tacles in  so  majestic  a  manner  evidently  belonged  to 
them.  Jadin  therefore  said  a  sensible  thing  when  he 
remarked  that  the  cat  of  the  optician  would  cost  us 
more  than  two  pauls,  and  he  acted  with  laudable 
prudence  in  slipping  his  handkerchief  through 
Milord's  collar. 

Thanks  to  that  precaution  we  passed  through  the 
rue  Saint-Ferdinand  without  mishap,  and  without 
Milord's  appearing  to  perceive,  except  by  his  brief 
captivity,  the  momentary  anxiety  of  our  minds. 

The  church  we  were  going  to  is  under  the  protec- 
tion of  Sanf  Agata,  who  is  buried  there,  as  every- 
body knows.  Her  form  of  martyrdom  was  to  have 
her  breasts  torn  off  with  red-hot  pincers  ;  so  that  the 
saint,  like  Dido,  knowing  how  to  compassionate  the 
agony  she  suffered,  is  especially  miraculous  for  dis- 
eases of  the  breast.  A  multitude  of  votive  offer- 
ings, in  silver,  marble  and  wax,  all  representing 
breasts,  show  faith  in  her  healing  power  and  the 
confidence  felt  by  the  Catanian  population  in  the 


96  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

chaste  and  beautiful  virgin  they  have  chosen  for 
their  patron  saint. 

In  the  choir  some  beautiful  oak  bas-reliefs  dating 
from  the  15th  century  represent  the  whole  history  of 
the  saint,  from  the  moment  when  she  refused  to 
marry  Quintilian  to  that  in  which  her  body  was 
brought  back  from  Constantinople.  The  most  inter- 
esting of  these  bas-reliefs  are  those  representing  the 
moment  when  the  saint  is  beaten  with  iron  rods, 
when  her  breasts  are  cut  off,  when  thev  bum  her,  and 
when,  visited  in  prison  by  Saint  Peter,  she  is  healed 
by  him.  Then  comes  the  second  period  of  the 
legend.  Still  following  the  bas-reliefs,  we  see  the 
saint  appear  to  Guibert  and  command  him  to  go  to 
Constantinople  and  search  for  her  body.  He  obeys, 
and  finds  her  tomb.  Hampered  by  the  difficulty  of 
bringing  back  this  precious  relic,  he  cuts  the  body 
into  pieces,  puts  a  piece  into  the  quiver  of  each  of 
his  soldiers,  and  thus  brings  her  back  to  Catania 
with  nothing  missing  but  one  breast,  which  happily 
is  found  and  brought  back  by  a  little  girl ;  so  that 
the  blessed  Agata  is  now,  to  the  shame  and  con- 
fusion of  infidels,  as  whole  as  she  ever  was.  All 
these  bas-reliefs  are  charming  in  naYvcte.  No  one 
pa vs  any  attention  to  them  ;  no  book  speaks  of  them  ; 
no  guide  dreams  of  showing  them  ;  and  yet  they  are 
undoubtedly  one  of  the  most  interesting  things  in 
the  church. 

We  were  returning  to  the  hotel,  intending  to  eat 
a  mouthful  Ix'fore  we  went  to  sec  the  garden  of  the 
Benedictines,  when,  looking  about  me,  I  perceived 
that  Milord  had  become  invisible.  Whenever  that 


THE   SPERONARA  97 

happened  \ve  knew  what  would  follow :  in  a  few  minutes 
we  .should  see  him  issuing  from  some  door  or  window, 
licking  his  chops  and  followed  by  a  native,  male  or 
female,  bearing  a  cat  by  the  tail  and  clamorous  for 
two  pauls.  I  looked  up  and  saw  that  we  had  heed- 
lessly taken  the  rue  Saint- Ferdinand  and  were  close 
to  the  shop  of  the  optician.  At  the  same  instant 
I  heard  an  uproar  of  devils  behind  a  cask  that  stood 
by  the  door.  I  sei/ed  Jadin  by  the  arm  and  showed 
him  the  window  —  the  cat  was  missing!  lie  under- 
stood at  once,  rushed  to  the  cask,  picked  up  a  pair 
of  spectacles  which  he  put  on  his  nose,  as  if  they 
were  his  he  had  lost,  and  marched  away,  followed  bv 
Milord.  As  for  the  luckless  cat,  she  expired  obscurely 
in  the  corner  to  which  she  had  imprudently  descended, 
and  where  Jadin  had  prudently  left  her  corpse. 
This  happened  at  the  hour  when,  as  Italians  say 
disdainfully,  no  one  is  in  the  streets  but  dogs 
and  Frenchmen.  No  one,  therefore,  witnessed  the 
murder,  not  even  the  storks  of  the  poet  Ibicus,  and 
not  only  did  the  crime  remain  unpunished  but  Jadin 
fell  heir  to  the  spectacles  of  the  deceased.  Those 
spectacles  are  now  in  Jadin's  studio  ;  he  shows  them 
as  the  spectacles  of  the  famous  Abbe  Meli,  the 
Anacreon  of  Sicily.  He  has  already  refused  a 
hundred  crowns  for  them,  offered  by  an  Englishman, 
and  says  he  would  not  part  with  them  for  twentv- 
five  louis. 

Our  last  visit  in  Catania  was  to  the  convent  of 
San  Nicola,  the  richest  in  Sicily,  the  cupola  of  which, 
higher  than  any  other  in  the  city,  was  built  about 
the  middle  of  the  18th  century  from  designs  bv 

7 


98  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

Contini.  The  church  and  the  garden  are  the  two 
remarkable  features  of  this  famous  monastery ;  the 
church  for  its  columns  of  verd  antique,  and  for  a 
very  fine  organ,  the  work  of  a  Calabrese  monk,  who 
asked,  as  his  only  payment,  to  be  buried  under  his 
masterpiece :  the  garden  for  the  difficulties  it  has 
vanquished  and  for  its  noble  view  of  Mount  yEtna. 
As  for  its  difficulties,  its  foundation  is  lava  and  every 
atom  of  its  soil  was  brought  there  by  the  hand  of 
man. 

The  rule  of  the  monastery  of  San  Nicola  was 
formerly  very  severe.  The  monks  were  to  live  on 
yEtna  at  the  limit  of  the  habitable  region ;  their 
convent  was  therefore  built  a  mile  above  Nicolosi, 
the  last  village  on  the  way  to  the  crater.  But  as 
all  things  weaken  in  the  long  run,  this  rule  lost  its 
rigour,  little  by  little ;  first,  the  monks  ceased  to  re- 
pair the  buildings ;  next,  one  or  two  rooms  having 
fallen  in  from  the  weight  of  snow,  the  worthy  fathers 
judged  it  advisable  to  build  the  magnificent  annex 
at  Catania  which  took  the  name  of  San  Nicola  il 
Nuovo,  and  after  that  they  lived  during  the  summer 
only  at  San  Nicola  il  Yeechio.  This  lasted  for 
awhile  and  then  San  Nicola  il  Yecchio  was  abandoned 
both  summer  and  winter ;  though  the  brethren  .still 
kept  an  eye  on  yEtna  from  their  beautiful  old  garden 
in  Catania.  There  was  talk  for  a  few  years  of  repair- 
ing the  old  buildings  (though  good  care  was  taken 
not  to  do  so),  until  finally  a  band  of  robbers,  people 
hardier  and  less  fastidious  about  their  comforts  than 
the  worthy  monks,  took  possession  of  the  place  and 
made  it  their  abode. 


THE   SPERONARA  99 

In  1806  Count  Weder,  a  blue-blooded  German,  as 
his  name  indicates,  started  from  Vienna  to  visit 
Sicily ;  he  embarked  at  Trieste,  landed  at  Ancona, 
visited  Rome  and  Naples,  where  he  obtained  certain 
letters  of  introduction,  set  sail  at  Naples,  and  dis- 
embarked at  Catania.  Count  Weder  had  known 
for  years  of  the  existence  of  the  monastery  of  San 
Nicohi  and  of  its  great  reputation  for  possessing 
among  its  serving  brothers  the  best  cook  in  all 
Sicily.  Now,  Count  Weder  was  a  very  distinguished 
gastronome,  and  he  had  been  careful  to  obtain  in 
Rome,  from  a  cardinal  with  whom  he  had  dined  at 
the  Austrian  embassy,  a  letter  of  introduction  to  the 
superior  of  the  monastery.  The  letter  was  urgent ; 
it  presented  the  count  as  a  pious  and  fervent  pilgrim, 
and  requested  that  hospitality  l)e  shown  him  when- 
ever it  pleased  him  to  visit  the  convent. 

The  count  was  learned  after  the  manner  of  Ger- 
mans ;  that  is  to  say,  he  had  read  a  great  quantity 
of  old  and  forgotten  books  ;  so  that  he  was  able  in 
supporting  his  assertions,  however  erroneous  and 
ridiculous  they  were,  to  quote  a  certain  number  of 
unknown  names,  which  gave  a  sort  of  pedantic 
majesty  to  his  paradoxes.  Now,  among  these  old 
books  he  had  found  a  catalogue  of  all  the  Benedic- 
tine monasteries  scattered  over  the  surface  of  the 
globe,  and  he  had  seen  and  retained  with  the  tenac- 
ity of  the  Teuton  mind  that  the  rule  of  the  Bene- 
dictines of  Catania  enjoined  them,  as  I  have  said,  to 
live  on  the  last  confine  of  the  rc^ione  coltirata  and 
the  first  of  the  rcggione  nemorowt.  So,  when  he 
sent  for  a  muleteer  to  take  him  to  San  Nicola  he 


100          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

informed  the  muleteer  that  he  desired  to  be  taken 
to  "  San  Nicola  sulP  .Etna." 

That  was  all  the  Italian  the  count  knew. 

There  was  no  mistaking  it ;  the  direction  was 
plain :  nevertheless,  the  muleteer  began  to  risk 
remarks ;  but  the  count  shut  his  mouth  with  the 
words :  "  I  bay  veil."  Every  one  knows  the  habitual 
power  of  that  argument :  the  muleteer  bowed  to 
the  count,  and  returned  in  half  an  hour  with  one 
mule. 

"  Nein"  said  the  count,  "  two  mules ;  my  P'^ggag6-" 

"  Does  your  Excellency  take  his  baggage  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  Oh  ! "  said  the  muleteer,  "  I  thought  perhaps 
your  Excellency  would  leave  that  at  the  inn ;  it 
would  be  safer." 

"  I  nefer  leaf  my  paggage." 

The  muleteer  responded  by  an  almost  impercep- 
tible sign  that  meant,  "  Every  one  his  own  way," 
and  went  off  to  get  another  mule.  But  after  the 
mule  was  loaded  the  honest  guide  thought  he  owed 
it  to  his  conscience  to  make  a  last  remark  : 

"  Is  your  Excellency  quite  decided  ? " 

"  Cerdainlv,"  replied  the  count,  sticking  an  enor- 
mous pair  of  pistols  into  the  holsters  of  his  saddle. 

"  You  are  going  to  San  Nicola  il  Vecchio  ?" 

"  I  am." 

"  Then  your  Excellency  has  friends  at  San  Nicola 
il  Vecchio?" 

"  I  haf  a  letter  for  the  cheneral." 

"  For  the  captain,  your  Excellency  means?" 

"  For  the  cheneral,  I  /av." 


THE   SPERONARA  101 

"  Hum  !  hum  !  "  muttered  the  guide. 

"  Bczides,  I  bay  veil,  I  bay  veil ;  do  you  hear  me, 
knafe?" 

"  Excuse  me,"  continued  the  guide,  "  but  since 
your  Excellency  is  so  kindly  disposed,  would  you 
mind  paying  me  in  advance  ?" 

"  In  adfance  !  why  7.0  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  now  three  o'clock  ;  we  shall  not 
arrive  till  after  dark  and  I  must  return  immediately." 

"  Py  night  ?  "  said  the  count.  "  I  subbose  they 
haf  subber  at  der  gonfent  ?  " 

"  The  convent  ?  " 

"  Yes,  at  San  Nicola." 

"  Oh  !  certainly,  they  have  supper ;  the  table  is 
more  likely  to  be  spread  by  night  than  by  day." 

"  The  rogues  ! "  said  the  count,  and  a  gastronomic 
gleam  illuminated  his  face.  "  Here  's  your  bay,  and 
someding  for  der  gut  news  you  gif  me." 

And  he  gave  him  three  piastres  which  he  took 
from  a  well-filled  purse. 

"  Thank  you,  Excellency,"  replied  the  muleteer, 
who,  once  paid,  had  nothing  more  to  say. 

"  Shall  we  start  now  ?  "  said  the  count. 

"  When  you  please,  Excellency." 

The  guide  helped  the  count  to  mount  his  mule 
and  led  the  way,  singing  a  species  of  canticle  that 
sounded  more  like  a  miserere  than  a  tarantella ;  but 
the  count  was  too  absorbed  in  the  thought  of  the 
fine  supper  he  was  about  to  eat  to  take  notice  of 
what  was  melancholy  in  the  prelude. 

The  trip  was  made  rather  silently.  The  guide 
had  ended  by  believing,  on  seeing  the  count's  confi- 


102          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

dcncc  supported  by  his  pistols,  that  he  must  be  on 
the  best  of  terms  with  the  occupants  of  San  Nicola 
il  Vecchio,  and  might  be  a  member  of  some  Bohe- 
mian band  who  did  business  with  those  of  Sicily. 
As  for  himself,  he  knew  that  he  had  nothing  to  fear 
personally,  muleteers  being  usually  sacred  to  robbers, 
and  especially  so  when  they  bring  them  so  good  a 
customer  as  the  count  appeared  to  be. 

Nevertheless,  at  every  village  they  passed  on  the 
way  he  lingered,  on  one  pretence  or  another.  It 
was  really  a  species  of  compromise  he  was  making 
with  his  conscience,  in  order  to  give  the  count  time 
to  make  reflections  and  inquiries,  and  to  return 
whence  they  came  if  so  it  pleased  him.  But  at 
every  halt  the  count  would  say,  in  a  voice  that 
hunger  made  urgent : 

"  Kn  afant !  come,  come,  en  afant !  der  teufel !  we 
shall  nefer  get  dere." 

And  off  he  went,  followed  by  the  amazed  eyes  of 
the  peasantry,  who  had  just  heard  from  the  muleteer 
the  object  of  this  strange  pilgrimage,  and  could  not 
conceive  how  any  man  should  even  dream  of  going 
to  San  Nicola  il  Yecchio  unless  he  was  taken  there 
by  force. 

The  count  and  his  guide  went  in  this  way  through 
Gravina,  Santa-Lucia  di  Catarica,  Manun/iata,  and 
Nicolosi.  Reaching  the  latter  village,  the  guide  made 
a  last  effort : 

"  Kxcellency,"  he  said,  "  if  I  were  you  I  should 
sup  and  sleep  here,  and  to-morrow  I  should  take  a 
little  walk,  as  it  were,  and  go,  all  alone,  to  San 
Nicola." 


THE   SPERONAUA  103 

"  You  clold  me  clat  I  should  find  a  gut  subber  uud 
a  gut  ped  at  der  gonfent." 

"  Pardieu,  yes,"  replied  the  guide,  "  if  they  are 
willing  to  let  you  in." 

"  Putt  don't  I  dell  you  I  haf  a  letter  to  der  chen- 
eral?" 

"  To  the  captain  ?  " 

"  No,  to  the  cheneral." 

"Then,"  said  the  guide,  "you  are  absolutely  de- 
termined to  go?" 

"  Ccrdainlv  I  am." 

"  Very  good ;  then  let  us  go." 

And  the  pair  set  out  again. 

It  was  now  dark,  there  was  no  moon,  and  they 
could  not  sec  a  yard  before  them.  But  as  the  guide 
knew  the  way  perfectly  there  was  no  risk  of  losing  it. 
He  took  a  little  path  that  was  scarcely  perceptible, 
turning  to  right  from  the  main  path  ;  then,  begin- 
ning to  leave  the  cultivated  region,  he  entered  that 
of  the  forests.  After  an  hour's  march,  a  black  build- 
ing rose  before  them,  at  the  windows  of  which  no 
light  was  seen. 

"  There  is  San  Nicola  il  Vecchio,"  said  the  guide, 
in  a  low  voice. 

"  Ho  !  ho  !"  said  the  count,  "dat's  a  gonfent  in  a 
melangoly  siduation." 

"  If  you  like,"  said  the  guide  eagerly,  "  we  can  go 
back  to  Nicolosi,  and  if  you  don't  want  to  sleep  at 
the  inn,  there  is  an  excellent  man,  il  Signore  Gemel- 
laro,  who  won't  refuse  you  a  bed." 

"  I  don't  know  him.  Be/ides,  Saint  Nigola  is 
where  I  wish  to  go,  and  not  Nigolosi." 


104-          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

"  Zerebello  da  tedesco?  muttered  the  Sicilian. 

Then,  whipping  his  mules,  they  were  soon  at  the 
gate  of  the  monastery. 

The  monastery  had  nothing  reassuring  on  nearer 
view.  It  was  an  old  structure  of  the  twelfth  centurv, 
where  it  was  easy  to  read  the  ravages  that  each  erup- 
tion hud  committed  since  the  days  of  its  foundation. 
The  date  of  all  the  conflagrations  and  earthquakes 
was,  as  it  were,  sculptured  on  those  stones.  By  cer- 
tain dentellations  that  came  out  in  vigorous  relief 
against  the  dark-blue  sky,  now  brilliant  with  stars, 
it  was  easy  to  see  what  part  of  the  building  had 
fallen  into  ruins.  Yet  the  walls  around  the  edifice 
seemed  fairly  well  repaired  and  loopholes  had  been 
made  in  them,  which  gave  San  Nicola  il  Vecchio 
more  the  appearance  of  a  fortress  than  the  aspect  of 
a  monastery. 

The  count  looked  at  all  this  with  a  very  calm  air 
and  told  the  muleteer  to  knock.  The  latter,  who 
had  made  up  his  mind,  raised  the  old  iron  knocker, 
eaten  by  the  rust  of  time,  and  let  it  fall  by  its  own 
weight.  The  stroke  resounded  through  the  depths 
of  the  convent  and  was  answered  by  a  shrill  bell. 
Almost  at  the  same  moment  a  little  window,  made  in 
the  wall  about  eight  feet  from  the  ground,  was 
opened.  Through  it  came  a  long  iron  tube,  directed 
towards  the  count's  chest ;  a  bearded  head  appeared 
at  the  aperture  and  a  voice,  which  had  no  monachal 
unction,  demanded : 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  " 

"Friend,"  replied  the  count,  putting  the  muz/le 
of  the  gun  aside  with  his  hand,  "  friend." 


THE   SPERONARA  105 

At  the  same  moment  he  fancied  there  came  to 
him,  through  the  open  window,  the  smell  of  a  roast 
that  rejoiced  his  soul. 

"  Friend  ?  hum  !  friend  ? "  said  the  man  at  the 
window.  "  Who  \s  to  prove  you  are  a  friend  ?  " 

And  he  repointed  the  gun  in  its  first  direction. 

"  Mv  fery  tear  prudder,"  replied  the  count,  putting 
aside  the  weapon  with  the  same  coolness  as  before, 
"  I  gombrehend  ferv  well  that  you  should  dake  brc- 
gautions,  pefore  admitting  strangers ;  I  should  do 
der  same  in  your  blace,  but  I  haf  a  letter  from 
Gardinal  Morosini  to  your  cheneral." 

"  For  our  captain  ?  "  said  he  of  the  gun. 

"  No,  no,  for  your  cheneral." 

"  Oh,  well,  it  is  all  one.     Are  you  alone  ?  " 

"  All  alone.11 

"  Wait ;  they  will  let  you  in." 

"  Hum  !  dat  zmclls  gut,  dat  roast,"  remarked  the 
German,  getting  off' his  mule. 

"  Excellency,"  asked  the  muleteer,  who,  during 
this  time,  had  unloaded  the  count's  baggage.  "  You 
do  not  need  me  any  longer  ?  " 

"  Fetter  stay,"  said  the  count. 

"  No,"  said  the  muleteer  ;  "  with  your  permission 
I  'd  rather  sleep  elsewhere." 

"  Veil  then,  go,"  replied  the  count. 

"  Shall  I  come  and  fetch  you  back  ?  " 

"  No,  the  cheneral  will  see  to  that." 

"  Very  good.     Adieu,  Excellency." 

"  Adieu." 

At  this  moment  the  key  began  to  turn  in  the 
lock ;  the  muleteer  jumped  on  one  of  his  mules, 


106          JOURNEYS   WITH    DUMAS 

seized  the  bridle  of  the  other,  and  set  off  at  a  trot, 
lie  was  already  fifty  yards  distant  when  the  gate 
opened. 

"  Dat  zmells  gut,"  said  the  German,  inhaling  the 
odour  that  came  from  the  kitchen,  "  ferv  gut." 

"  You  think  so  ?"  remarked  the  strange  porter. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  count,  "  I  do." 

"  That  \s  the  chiefs  supper ;  he  is  on  the  road  and 
we  expect  him  every  minute." 

"  Den  I  arrife  in  gut  time,"  said  the  count, 
laughing. 

"  Does  he  know  you,  our  chief?  " 

"  No ;  putt  I  haf  a  letter  for  him." 

*'  Ah  !  that 's  another  thing  —  let  me  see  it." 

"  Here  it  is." 

The  porter  took  the  letter  and  read  the  direction  : 

"  Al  reverendissimo  generak  del  Benedettini ;  al 
convento  di  San  Nicola  di  Catania. 

"  Ah  !  I  understand,"  said  the  porter. 

"Ah!  you  gombrehend ;  dat  is  fery  lucky,"  said 
the  count,  patting  him  on  the  shoulder.  "  In  dat 
case,  my  vrend,  if  you  gombrehend,  pring  in  mv 
paggage,  and  take  gut  care  of  der  bordmanteau  ; 
my  burse  is  in  it." 

"  Oh  !  that  \  where  your  purse  is  —  a  good  thing  to 
know,"  said  the  porter,  fetching  the  portmanteau 
with  special  alacrity. 

Then,  having  brought  in  the  rest  of  the  baggage, 
he  said  :  "  I  see  you  are  a  friend,  so  come  along." 

The  count  did  not  need  to  be  asked  twice;  he 
followed  his  guide. 

The  interior  aspect  of  the  convent  was  not   less 


THE  SPERONARA  107 

strange  than  its  exterior.  Ruins  everywhere ;  many 
empty  casks  about;  no  images  of  saints  or  crucifixes. 
The  count  stopped  a  moment,  for  he  was  one  of 
those  talkers  who  have  the  bad  habit  of  stopping 
when  they  speak,  and  he  expressed  his  surprise  at  the 
devastation  he  saw. 

"  We  can't  help  that,"  said  his  guide.  "  We  are 
rather  isolated,  as  you  must  have  seen  ;  and  as  the 
mountain  is  full  of  rascals  who  fear  neither  God  nor 
the  devil,  we  never  leave  the  little  that  we  own  lying 
about.  All  the  precious  things  we  have  are  locked 
up  in  the  cellar.  Besides,  you  know  we  have  another 
monastery  down  there  in  Catania." 

"  No,  I  did  n't  know.  So  !  you  haf  anoder  monas- 
tery ?  Tear  —  tear ! " 

"  Now,  please  count  your  baggage  yourself,  so 
that  you  may  swear  to  the  chief  that  nothing  has 
been  taken." 

"  Oh  !  dat  is  fery  eaxy ;  one  drunk,  one  garbet-pag, 
and  one  bordmanteau.  I  trust  dat  to  you,  dat  bord- 
manteau,  pecausc  my  burse  is  in  it." 

"Three  articles  only,  is  that  right?  It  isn't 
much." 

"  It  is  enough." 

"  You  think  so  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  dink  so." 

"  Well,  wait  there,"  said  the  porter,  showing  the 
count  into  a  species  of  cell.  "  I  don't  doubt  the 
chief  will  be  here  in  half  an  hour."  And  he  made  a 
movement  to  depart. 

"  Stop  !  stop  !  while  waiting  could  I  go  into  der 
gitchen  ?  I  can  gif  some  gut  adlice  to  der  gook." 


108          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  Faith  !  I  don't  sec  any  objection,'"  said  the  porter. 
"  Wait  here  till  I  put  your  baggage  in  safety.  How 
much  money  did  you  say  there  was  in  your  purse?  " 

"  Dree  dousand  six  hundred  and  dwenty  ducats."" 

"  Three  thousand  six  hundred  and  twenty  ducats ; 
good,"1  remarked  the  porter. 

"  That  zeems  a  fery  worthy  man,"  murmured  the 
count,  looking  at  the  brother  as  lie  carried  away  all 
his  possessions,  "  a  fery  worthy  man,  indeed.'" 

Ten  minutes  later  the  porter  returned. 

"  If  you  wish  to  go  to  the  kitchen  you  can  do  so," 
he  said. 

The  count  followed  the  Sicilian,  who  took  him  to 
the  kitchen.  The  spit  was  turning,  the  ovens  were 
baking,  and  saucepans  boiled  on  all  sides. 

"  Gut,"  said  the  German,  stopping  on  the  lower 
step,  and  taking  in  with  eye  and  nostril,  this  succu- 
lent scene,  "  gut,  it  zeems  I  haf  not  habbened  on  a 
vast  tay.  Gut  evening,  gook,  gut  evening." 

The  cook  had  been  notih'ed ;  and  he  received  the 
count  with  deference.  The  count  profited  by  this 
reception  to  go  round  the  kitchen,  lift  the  covers  of 
all  the  saucepans,  and  taste  all  the  sauces.  Suddenly 
he  rushed  upon  the  cook,  who  was  in  the  act  of 
shaking  salt  upon  an  omelet,  and  snatched  the  pan 
of  eggs  from  his  hand. 

"  Hey  !  vat  is  dat  you  do  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  What  am  I  doing  ? "  said  the  cook.  "  I  am 
salting  an  omelet." 

"  Stop,  miserable  man,  you  don't  but  zalt  into  an 
omeled ;  you  but  zugar  and  bre/erves,  and  gooseperry 
jam." 


THE   SPERONARA  109 

"Nonsense,""  said  the  cook,  trying  to  snatch  the 
pan  back  again. 

"  No,  no,  no  !  "  cried  the  count.  "  I  '11  made  das 
omeled  ;  gif  me  die  jam."" 

"  Ha  !  "  said  the  cook,  getting  angry,  "  we  will 
soon  see  who  is  master  here." 

"  I  am,"  said  a  strong  voice.    "  What  is  all  this?" 

The  count  and  the  cook  turned  round.  A  man 
from  forty  to  forty-five  vears  of  age,  in  a  monk's 
robe,  stood  upon  the  stairway  ;  he  was  tall,  and  had 
the  hard,  imperious  countenance  of  those  who  are 
accustomed  to  command. 

*'  The  captain  !  "  exclaimed  the  cook. 

"  Ah,  the  cheneral,  gut,"  said  the  count.  "  Chene- 
ral,"  he  continued,  going  up  to  the  monk,  "  I  peg 
your  bardon,  but  vou  haf  a  gook  who  does  not  know 
how  to  make  omeleds." 

"  Are  you  Count  Weder,  monsieur?"  said- the  monk, 
eyeing  him. 

"  Yes,  cheneral,"  replied  the  count,  not  letting  go 
of  pan  or  fork  and  preparing  to  beat  the  eggs,  "  I  am 
Count  Weder  in  ber/on." 

"  Then  it  is  you  who  brought  me  the  letter  of 
introduction  which  the  porter  has  just  given  me  ?  " 

"  My /elf." 

"  Vou  are  very  welcome,  monsieur  le  comte." 

The  count  bowed. 

"  I  regret  that  the  situation  of  our  convent,  its 
long  distance  from  other  habitations,  does  not  allow 
me  to  receive  you  more  suitably  ;  we  are  poor  her- 
mits on  a  mountain,  and  you  will  pardon  us,  I  hope, 
if  our  table  is  not  well  supplied."1 


110  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  What !  not  well  zubblied  !  Why,  der  zubber,  on 
die  gontrary,  zeems  egzellent,  and  if  your  gook  will 
make  das  omeled  mit  jam  — 

"  But,  captain  "   —  interposed  the  cook. 

"Give  the  preserves  to  monsieur,  and  let  him  make 
his  omelet  as  he  likes."  The  cook  obeyed  without 
a  word.  "  Do  not  hurry  yourself,  monsieur  le  comte," 
continued  the  monk  ;  "  make  yourself  at  home,  and  as 
soon  as  the  omelet  is  done  to  your  liking,  come  up 
to  us  ;  we  shall  await  you." 

"  An  affair  of  fife  minutes,  cheneral ;  haf  zubber 
zerved." 

"  You  hear,"  said  the  monk  to  the  cook.  "  Serve 
the  supper  ; "  and  he  went  upstairs. 

The  count,  triumphant,  finished  his  omelet  and 
followed  him. 

The  Superior  was  awaiting  his  guest  with  the 
whole  community,  consisting  of  some  score  of  brothers, 
in  a  well-lighted  refectory  where  a  table  was  set  in 
perfect  style.  The  count  was  struck  with  the  luxury 
of  its  silver-ware,  and  the  fineness  and  beauty  of  the 
tablecloths  and  napkins.  The  convent  had  evidently 
taken  from  its  treasure-house  and  presses  the  best  it 
had,  to  do  honour  to  its  guest.  As  for  the  apart- 
ment, its  dilapidated  aspect  contrasted  strangely 
with  the  luxury  displayed  within  it.  It  was  a 
large  hall  which  must  formerly  have  been  a  chapel ; 
in  the  altar  of  which  a  chimney  had  been  con- 
structed. The  walls  had  no  other  decoration 
than  spiders1  webs;  and  a  few  bats  attracted  by 
the  light  flitted  about  the  ceiling,  going  in  and 
out  of  the  broken  windows  at  will.  A  complete 


THE   SPERONARA  111 

arsenal  of  carbines  was    picturesquely  arranged   in 
one  corner. 

The  count  took  all  this  in  at  a  glance  ;  he  admired 
the  religious  abnegation  of  the  good  fathers,  who, 
possessing  such  treasures  as  those  before  his  eyes,  were 
willing  to  live  exposed  to  the  inclemency  of  the 
weather,  like  the  ancient  hermits  of  Mount  Carmel  and 
the  Thebaid.  The  Superior  noticed  his  surprise. 

"  Monsieur  le  comtc,"  he  said,  "  I  beg  your  pardon 
once  more  for  this  poor  house  and  the  poor  dinner 
which  is  all  we  can  offer  you.  Perhaps  your  friends 
had  pictured  our  convent  to  you  as  an  abode  of 
delight.  That  is  how  society  judges,  monsieur  le 
comte.  Therefore,  when  you  return  to  the  world  I 
hope  you  will  do  us  justice.1'1 

"  Pless  me !  cheneral,"  replied  the  count ;  "  I  see 
noding  amiss  mit  der  tinner,  and  I  saw  a  fine  tisblay 
of  bots  and  bans  in  der  gitchen,  and  if  der  fine  is  as 
gut-" 

"  Oh  !  "  interrupted  the  Superior,  "  you  may  be 
easy  as  to  that ;  the  wine  is  good." 

"  Eh  !  if  der  fine  is  gut,  dat  is  all  we  need." 

"  But  I  fear,"  added  the  Superior,  "  that  our  ways 
may  not  seem  to  you  quite  monachal.  For  example, 
we  never  sup  without  a  pair  of  pistols  beside  each  of 
us  ;  that  is  a  precaution  against  accidents  that  may 
happen  at  any  moment  in  so  lonely  a  place  as  this. 
You  will  therefore  excuse  us  if,  in  spite  of  your  pres- 
ence, we  follow  our  usual  custom." 

So  saying  the  Superior  opened  his  gown  and  took 
from  his  belt  a  pair  of  superb  pistols,  which  he  laid 
beside  him. 


112          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  Right,  cheneral,  right ! "  cried  the  German  ; 
"  bistols  are  the  vrends  of  man;  I  haf  bistols  my /elf, 
and  —  oh  !  it  is  ama/ing  how  like  yours  are  to  dcm.r> 

"  Not  so  very  ama/ing,"  said  the  Superior,  repress- 
ing a  smile ;  "  they  are  very  good  weapons,  made  by 
Kukenreiter ;  I  sent  to  Germany  for  them." 

"  Kukenreiters !  zo  are  mine.  Zend  for  mine, 
cheneral,  they  are  mit  my  paggage,  to  gombare  mit 
yours." 

"  After  dinner,  count,  after  dinner.  Sit  opposite 
to  me,  —  there,  that  is  right.  Do  you  know  your 
Benedicite  ?  " 

"  Once,  but  now  I  haf  forgot  — 

"  What  a  pity,  for  I  counted  on  you  to  sav  it ;  but 
if  vou  have  forgotten  it,  we  must  do  without  it." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  the  count,  disposed  to  be  very 
complying. 

He  ate  his  soup  without  a  blessing,  as  did  all  the 
monks.  When  he  had  finished,  the  captain  passed 
him  a  bottle. 

"  Taste  that,"  he  said. 

The  count,  confident  that  he  had  to  do  with  a  very 
choice  wine,  filled  a  small  glass,  took  it  by  the  stem, 
examined  for  an  instant  by  the  nearest  lamp  the 
liquid,  yellow  as  amber,  within  it;  then  he  carried  it 
to  his  lips  and  sipped  it  with  the  voluptuous  slowness 
of  a  gourmet. 

"  wJTis  astonishing,"  he  said;  "I  who  thought  I 
knew  all  fines,  I  do  not  know  dat." 

"  That  is  Marsala,  —  a  wine  that  is  not  known,  but 
deserves  to  be.  Ah  !  our  poor  Sicily,  she  has  many 
neglected  treasures  within  her." 


THE   SPERONARA  113 

"  What  name  ticl  you  gall  it  ?  " 

"  Marsala." 

"  Marxala:  veil,  it  is  a  gut  fine.  I  shall  py  some; 
is  it  tear  ?  " 

"  Two  sous  a  bottle." 

"  What  ?  "  said  the  count,  who  thought  he  heard 
wrong. 

"  Two  sous  a  bottle." 

"  Doo  sous  a  pottle !  Vy,  you  haf  baradisc, 
cheneral ;  I  shall  nefer  leaf  you  ;  I  shall  make  my/elf 
penedictine." 

"  I  must  warn  you  that  it  has  a  defect,"  said  the 
Superior. 

"  Tefect !  it  has  no  tefeets." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  it  is  heady." 

"  Heady  !  "  said  the  count,  contemptuously  ;  "  I 
could  trink  bints  and  not  show  it  more  than  if  I 
trank  gooseperry  /irop." 

"  If  so,  don't  restrain  yourself,"  said  the  Superior ; 
"  do  as  you  do  at  home  ;  only,  I  assure  you  we  have 
other  wines." 

In  virtue  of  the  permission  thus  accorded,  the 
count  began  to  eat  and  drink  like  a  true  German  ; 
and  it  must  he  owned  that  he  sustained  the  reputa- 
tion of  his  compatriots  admirably.  The  monks, 
encouraged  by  their  Superior,  would  not  allow  them- 
selves to  be  outdone  bv  a  stranger,  so  that  presently 
the  religious  silence  that  reigned  at  the  beginning  of 
the  repast  was  broken ;  each  began  to  talk  to  his 
neighbour  in  a  low  voice,  then  loudly  to  the  table  at 
large.  At  the  second  course,  every  one  was  shouting 
at  the  top  of  his  lungs  and  recounting  the  strangest 


114          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

adventures  it  was  possible  to  hear.  The  count,  little 
as  he  could  understand  Sicilian,  fancied  he  heard 
talk  of  bold  deeds  done  by  brigands,  convents 
pillaged,  gendarmes  shot,  nuns  violated.  But  there 
was  nothing  surprising  in  that ;  the  isolated  situation 
of  these  worthy  Benedictines,  their  remoteness  from 
the  city,  must  have  made  them  more  than  once  the 
witnesses  of  such  scenes.  The  Marsala  still  went 
round,  without  prejudice  to  the  dry  Siracusa,  the 
muscat  of  Calabria,  the  malvoisie  of  Lipari.  Strong 
as  the  count's  head  was,  his  eves  began  to  cover  with 
a  film  and  his  tongue  to  thicken.  Then  monologues 
succeeded  to  conversations,  and  songs  to  monologues. 
The  count,  who  desired  to  keep  upon  the  level  of  his 
hosts,  searched  his  anacreontic  repertory,  and  finding 
nothing  suitable  for  the  moment  but  Schiller's  famous 
brigand  song,  he  began  to  sing  with  all  his  might : 
Stehlen,  morden,  hnren,  balgen,  to  which,  it  seemed  to 
him,  the  company  responded  with  loud  applause. 

Presently  everything  began  to  swim  round  about 
him  ;  he  fancied  he  saw  the  monks  throw  off  their 
religious  gowns  and  transform  themselves  into  ban- 
dits ;  the  ascetic  faces  changed  character,  and 
blazed  with  ferocious  joy  ;  the  dinner  degenerated 
into  an  orgy  ;  still  they  went  on  drinking,  and  each 
time  they  drank  it  was  some  new  wine,  some  heady 
wine,  wine  from  the  cellars  of  the  Prince  of  Paterno 
or  from  those  of  the  Dominicans  of  Aci-Hcale  ;  they 
beat  the  table  with  the  empty  bottles,  shouting  for 
more ;  the  lamps  were  upset  by  the  blows,  the  cloth 
took  fire,  then  the  napkins,  then  the  table,  and 
instead  of  extinguishing  the  flames  they  threw  on 


THE   SPERONARA  115 

benches  and  chairs  and  stalls.  In  an  instant  the 
table  was  a  bonfire,  round  which  the  monks,  trans- 
formed to  bandits,  danced  like  demons.  Suddenly, 
in  the  midst  of  the  devilish  uproar,  the  voice  of  the 
captain  was  heard,  calling :  I<e  monache  I  le  monache ! 
A  loud  hurrah  greeted  this  cry.  An  instant  later 
a  door  opened  and  four  nuns  appeared,  dragged  in 
by  four  or  five  bandits.  The  count  beheld  all  this 
as  if  in  a  dream,  and  (as  in  a  dream)  he  felt  that 
some  superior  force  held  his  body  in  its  place,  while 
his  mind  was  active  elsewhere.  In  an  instant  the 
bandits  sprang  upon  the  poor  girls ;  the  captain 
attempted  to  be  heard,  but  his  voice  was  drowned 
in  the  general  clamour.  Then  it  seemed  to  the 
count  as  if  the  captain  pulled  out  his  famous 
kukenreiters,  that  were  so  like  his  own.  He  fancied 
he  heard  two  shots ;  he  closed  his  eves,  dazzled  by 
the  flame.  When  he  opened  them  he  saw  blood, 
two  brigands  writhing  and  howling  on  the  floor, 
and  the  youngest  of  the  nuns  in  the  arms  of  the 
captain.  Then  he  saw  no  more;  his  eyes  closed  a 
second  time  without  the  power  to  open,  his  legs 
gave  way  under  him,  and  he  fell  on  the  floor  in  a 
heap,  dead-drunk. 

When  the  count  awoke  it  was  broad  daylight ;  he 
rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked  about  him.  He  was 
lying  under  a  tree  at  the  edge  of  the  woods ;  on  his 
right  was  Nicolosi,  on  his  left  Pedara,  before  him 
Catania,  and  beyond  Catania  the  sea.  lie  seemed 
to  have  passed  the  night  under  the  stars,  lying  on  a 
soft  bed  of  sand,  his  head  resting  on  his  portmanteau, 
and  without  other  dais  than  the  illimitable  a/ure  of 


116          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

the  sky.  At  first  he  remembered  nothing,  and  lay 
for  some  time  like  a  man  coming  out  of  a  lethargy ; 
at  last  his  thought,  by  a  slow  and  confused  process, 
went  backward ;  he  recalled  his  departure  from 
Catania,  the  hesitations  of  his  muleteer,  his  arrival 
at  the  monastery,  his  altercation  with  the  cook,  the 
welcome  of  the  general,  the  dinner,  the  Marsala,  the 
songs,  the  orgy,  the  fire,  the  nuns,  and  the  pistol 
shots.  He  looked  about  him  and  saw  his  trunk,  his 
carpet-bag,  his  portmanteau.  He  opened  the  latter 
and  found  his  portfolio,  his  sea-foam  pipe,  his  to- 
bacco pouch,  his  purse  —  his  purse,  which,  to  his 
great  amazement  seemed  as  full  as  ever  ;  he  opened 
it  with  anxiety ;  yes,  it  was  full  of  gold,  and  besides 
the  gold  there  was  a  note ;  the  count  opened  it  and 
read  as  follows  : 

MONSIEUR  LE  COMTE, —  We  offer  you  a  thousand  ex- 
cuses for  leaving  you  in  so  abrupt  a  manner  ;  but  an 
expedition  of  the  utmost  importance  takes  us  in  the 
direction  of  Cefalu.  I  hope  that  you  will  not  forget 
the  hospitality  of  the  Benedictines  of  San  NicolA  il 
Vecchio,  and  I  beg  you,  on  your  return  to  Rome,  to 
ask  Monsignore  Morosini  not  to  forget  those  poor  sinners 
in  his  prayers. 

You  will  find  all  your  baggage,  except  the  kuken- 
reiters,  which  I  ask  your  permission  to  keep  as  a 
souvenir  of  you. 

DOM  G  A  ETA  NO 

Prior  of  Sun  NicolA  il  Vecchio. 
OCTOBER  16,  1806. 

Count  Weder  examined  his  purse  ;  not  a  penny 
was  missing. 


THE   SPERONARA  117 

When  he  reached  Nicolosi,  he  found  the  village 
in  commotion.  The  convent  of  Santa-Clara  had 
been  broken  into,  the  silver  pillaged,  and  four  of 
the  nuns  earned  off',  without  any  clue  as  to  where 
they  were  taken. 

The  count  sent  for  his  muleteer,  remounted  his 
mule,  returned  to  Catania,  and  finding  that  a  ship 
was  about  to  sail  for  Naples,  he  went  on  board  and 
quitted  Sicily  forever  that  same  night. 

Two  years  later  he  read  in  the  "  Allgemeine 
Zeitung"  that  the  famous  bandit  chief  Gaetano, 
who  had  taken  possession  of  the  monastery  of  San 
Nicola  il  Vecchio  on  /Etna  and  made  it  a  den  of 
robbers,  had  been  captured  after  a  terrible  struggle 
with  an  English  regiment  and  hanged,  to  the  great 
joy  of  the  inhabitants  of  Catania,  whom  he  sei/ed 
for  ransom  in  their  very  town  itself. 


ON  the  day  after  our  arrival  at  Catania  we  were 
resolved,  as  I  have  said,  to  attempt  the  ascen- 
sion of  /Etna.  I  say  attempt,  for  it  is  pre-eminently 
the  occasion  when  travellers  can  apply  to  themselves 
the  proverb  :  "  Man  proposes,  and  God  disposes." 

No  sight  is  more  common  than  travellers  starting 
from  Catania  to  ascend  the  Ghibello  (as  ./Etna  is 
called  in  Sicily),  and  none  more  rare  than  the  privi- 
leged beings  who  reach  her  crater.  The  reason  is 
that  during  nine  or  ten  months  of  the  year  the  moun- 
tain is  really  inaccessible;  until  the  15th  of  June  it 
is  too  early,  after  October  1st  it  is  too  late. 

In  this  respect  we  fulfilled  conditions,  for  we 
reached  Catania  September  5th  :  besides  which,  the 
day  had  been  magnificent ;  no  fog  nor  mist  veiled 
/Etna.  From  all  the  streets  that  led  that  way  we 
had  seen  her,  the  evening  before,  serene  and  majestic. 
The  light  smoke  rising  from  the  crater  followed  the 
direction  of  the  wind,  floating  like  a  pennant ;  and 
the  sun,  which  we  had  watched  as  it  disappeared  from 
the  cupola  of  the  Benedictines,  glided  in  a  sky  with- 
out a  cloud,  promising  for  the  morrow  a  day  not  less 
beautiful  than  the  one  that  was  ending. 

So  at  five  in  the  morning  our  guide  woke  us  with 
the  announcement  that  the  weather  was  made  ex- 


THE  SPERONARA  119 

pressly  for  us.  We  ran  to  the  windows  that  looked 
on  /Etna,  and  we  saw  the  vast  mountain  bathing  her 
colossal  head  in  the  blond  vapours  of  the  dawn.  We 
could  distinguish  perfectly  the  three  regions  we  had 
to  cross  before  arriving  at  the  .summit :  the  cultivated 
region,  the  wooded  region,  the  barren  region.  The 
cone,  contrary  to  its  usual  state,  was  entirely  with- 
out snow. 

Ordinarily  the  ascent  is  not  begun  till  four  in  the 
afternoon  ;  but  we  wished  to  stop  a  few  hours  at 
Nicolosi  and  visit  Monte-Rosso,  one  of  the  many  sec- 
ondary volcanoes  that  bristle  around  yEtna.  Besides 
which,  I  had  heard  of  a  certain  Signore  Gemellaro  at 
Nicolosi,  a  modest  and  amiable  learned  man,  who 
had  lived  there  fifty  years  and  would  be  pleased  to 
answer  all  my  questions.  I  asked  for  a  letter  to  him 
and  was  told  it  was  quite  unnecessary  ;  his  obliging 
hospitality  being  offered  to  all  travellers  undertaking 
the  ascension,  which  was  always  painful  and  often 
dangerous. 

At  five  o'clock,  therefore,  after  providing  ourselves 
with  a  bottle  of  the  best  rum  we  could  find,  we 
mounted  our  mules  and  started  for  Nicolosi,  where 
the  rest  of  our  provisions  were  to  be  bought.  Each 
wore  his  ordinary  clothes,  to  which,  in  spite  of  our 
landlord's  advice,  we  added  nothing,  being  unable  to 
suppose  that  after  leaving  Catania  in  a  temperature 
fit  to  cook  an  egg  we  should  find  ten  degrees  of  frost 
on  the  mountain. 

I  know  nothing  finer,  more  original,  more  varied, 
wilder  and  more  fertile  both,  than  the  road  that  leads 
from  Catania  to  Nicolosi,  crossing,  in  turn,  seas  of 


120          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

sand,  oases  of  orange-trees,  rivers  of  lava,  carpets  of 
harvest  lands,  and  walls  of  black  marble.  Three  or 
four  villages  are  on  the  way,  poor,  wretched,  pitiful, 
peopled  with  beggars,  like  other  Sicilian  villages  ; 
but  with  it  all  they  have  sonorous,  poetic  names, 
that  resound  like  happy  names,  —  Gravina,  Santa- 
Lucia,  Massanunziata.  They  stand  on  lava,  are 
built  with  lava,  and  are  roofed  with  lava.  They 
come  from  the  bowels  of  the  mountain,  and  there 
they  will  return  some  day.  They  unfold  on  the  sur- 
face of  the  volcano  like  poor  flowers  withered  before 
they  bloom,  which  the  first  stormy  wind  will  carry  off. 

Between  Massanun/iata  and  Monte  Miani  on  the 
right  of  the  road  is  the  Moat  of  the  Dove.  Whence 
came  that  tender  name  applied  to  a  black  and 
gloomy  excavation,  two  hundred  feet  deep  and  one 
hundred  and  fifty  wide  ?  Our  guide  could  not  tell  us. 

We  reached  Nicolosi,  a  species  of  little  country 
town  built  on  the  confines  of  the  habitable  world. 
Two  or  three  miles  before  reaching  it  we  began  to 
enter  a  desolate  region ;  although  for  half  a  mile 
above  it  we  saw  fine  plantations  and  a  slope  covered 
with  vineyards.  Does  some  interior  fire  partially 
take  the  place  of  the  heat  of  the  sun,  already  much 
tempered  at  that  height?  This  is  another  of 
the  mysteries  to  which  illiterate  guides  and  learned 
travellers  are  equally  unable  to  give  the  key. 

We  stopped  at  one  of  those  hovels  which  Sicily 
alone  has  the  audacity  to  bapti/e  with  the  name  of 
inn  ;  and  as  it  was  still  early  we  sent  our  cards,  while 
breakfast  was  preparing,  to  Signore  Gemellaro,  ask- 
ing permission  to  pay  him  a  visit,  lie  replied  that 


THE   SPERONARA  121 

he  was  just  sitting  down  to  table,  and  that  if  we 
would  share  his  meal  we  should  be  welcomed.  What- 
ever might  have  been  our  desire,  in  view  of  the  food 
that  awaited  us,  to  accept  so  gracious  an  offer,  we 
had  the  discretion  to  refuse  it  and  to  content  our- 
selves with  a  meal  at  the  inn.  This  was  a  meri- 
torious action,  worthy  to  stand  parallel  with  the 
severest  fasts  of  the  fathers  of  the  desert. 

Breakfast  over,  we  ordered  our  guide  to  buy  us  a 
pair  of  chickens,  or  half  a  dozen  pigeons  of  any  kind, 
wring  their  necks,  pluck  them,  and  have  them  roasted. 
This  was  provision  for  our  breakfast  on  the  mountain 
the  next  day.  That  precaution  taken,  we  started 
for  the  house  of  Signore  Gemellaro,  the  most  impos- 
ing in  the  village.  The  servant  ushered  us  into  the 
study  where  his  master  awaited  us.  As  soon  as  I 
saw  him  I  gave  a  cry  of  joy  ;  he  was  the  very  man 
who  at  Aci-Ileale  had  so  obligingly  informed  me  of 
the  way  to  the  grotto  of  Polyphemus. 

"  Ah  !  it  is  you,"  he  said,  on  seeing  us,  "  I  thought 
I  should  find  you  old  acquaintances.  Every  travel- 
ler who  sets  foot  in  Sicily  belongs  to  me  of  right ; 
he  has  to  pass  this  way,  and  I  catch  him  on  the 
jump.  Did  you  find  your  grotto?" 

"  Easily,  monsieur,  thanks  to  your  kindness,  which 
we  have  come  once  more  to  put  to  proof." 

"At  your  orders,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  making  us 
a  sign  to  sit  down,  "and  I  venture  to  say  that  if  you 
want  information  about  this  region  you  cannot  do 
better  than  address  yourselves  to  me." 

In  fact,  Signore  Gemellaro  had  lived  for  sixty 
years  in  the  village  of  Nicolosi,  where  he  was  born  ; 


122          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

and  the  occupation  of  his  life  was  to  observe  the 
volcano  that  was  seldom  out  of  his  sight.  For  sixty 
years  the  mountain  had  never  made  a  motion  of  any 
kind  that  Signore  Gemellaro  did  not  instantly  study 
it;  the  crater  had  not  changed  in  shape  twenty-four 
hours  before  Signore  Gemellaro  had  drawn  it  under 
its  new  aspect ;  the  smoke  never  thickened  or  volatil- 
ized a  single  time  that  Signore  Gemellaro  did  not 
gather  from  its  darkening  or  its  tenuity  auguries 
that  results  never  failed  to  confirm.  In  short,  Si- 
gnore Gemellaro  was,  and  is,  the  modern  Empedo- 
cles;  but  I  hope  that,  wiser  than  him  of  old,  he  will 
be  buried  with  both  slippers.  Thus,  the  Signore 
Gemellaro  knows  his  yEtna  to  the  tips  of  his  fingers. 
The  mountain  has  not  thrown  up  a  mouthful  of  lava 
for  3000  years  that  Signore  Gemellaro  does  not 
possess  a  specimen  of  it ;  in  fact,  there  is  nothing 
in  this  region  down  to  the  island  Julia,  of  which 
Signore  Gemellaro  does  not  own  a  fragment. 

Mv  readers  have  doubtless  heard  of  the  island 
Julia,  that  ephemeral  isle  that  had  but  three  months'1 
existence,  it  is  true,  but  which  made  more  noise 
during  its  passage  through  this  world  than  other 
islands  existing  since  the  deluge. 

One  fine  morning  of  the  month  of  July,  1831,  the 
island  Julia  rose  from  the  depths  of  the  sea  and 
appeared  upon  its  surface.  It  was  six  miles  round, 
it  had  mountains  and  valleys  like  other  isles  ;  it  had 
even  a  spring;  true,  that  spring  was  of  boiling 
water.  Scarcely  had  this  island  issued  from  the 
main  when  an  English  vessel  passed  ;  in  whatever 
part  of  the  seas  a  phenomenon  of  any  kind  occurs,  an 


THE   SPERONARA  123 

English  vessel  is  sure  to  be  passing  just  then.  The 
captain,  ama/ed  at  seeing  an  island  where  his  chart 
did  not  indicate  so  much  as  a  rock,  hove-to,  and 
getting  into  his  gig  went  ashore  upon  it.  He  noted 
that  it  lay  in  latitude  38°  ;  that  it  had  mountains, 
valleys,  and  a  spring  of  boiling  water.  He  sent  for 
eggs  and  tea,  and  breakfasted  by  the  spring ;  after 
which  he  took  the  Hag  of  England  and  planting  it 
at  the  top  of  the  highest  mount,  he  pronounced 
these  sacramental  words  :  "  I  take  possession  of  this 
territory  in  the  name  of  His  Britannic  Majesty." 
Then  he  returned  to  his  ship  and  set  sail  for 
England,  where  he  arrived  safelv  and  announced 
that  he  had  discovered  in  the  Mediterranean  a 
hitherto  unknown  island,  which  he  had  named  Julia 
in  honour  of  the  month  of  July,  the  date  of  his 
discovery,  and  of  which  he  had  taken  possession  in 
the  name  of  Great  Britain. 

Immediately  after  the  English  ship  had  left  the 
island  a  Neapolitan  ship  came  by,  and  was  no  less 
astonished  than  its  predecessor  had  been.  At  sight 
of  this  unknown  island  the  captain,  a  prudent  man, 
took  in  sail  in  order  to  keep  at  a  respectful  distance. 
Then  he  levelled  his  glass,  and  bv  the  aid  of  that 
instrument  he  saw  that  the  island  was  uninhabited, 
that  it  had  valleys  and  a  mountain,  and  that  from 
the  summit  of  that  mountain  floated  the  British  flag. 
He  immediately  called  out  for  four  volunteers  to  go 
and  see  what  it  meant.  Two  Sicilians  presented 
themselves,  got  into  the  boat,  and  started.  A 
quarter  of  an  hour  later  they  returned  bringing 
with  them  the  English  flag.  The  Neapolitan  cap- 


JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

tain  then  declared  that  he  took  possession  of  the 
island  in  the  name  of  the  King  of  the  Two  Sicilies, 
and  he  named  it  Isola  San  Ferdinando.  After 
which  he  returned  to  Naples,  asked  an  audience  of 
the  king,  told  him  he  had  discovered  an  island, 
thirty  miles  in  circumference,  covered  with  orange- 
trees,  lemon-trees  and  pomegranates,  in  which  was 
a  mountain  higher  than  Vesuvius,  a  valley  like  that 
of  Jehoshaphat,  and  a  spring  of  mineral  water,  on 
which  a  bathing  establishment  could  be  set  up  finer 
than  that  of  Ischia.  He  added,  by  the  way  and 
without  dwelling  on  details,  that  an  English  vessel 
having  attempted  to  dispute  the  possession  of  the 
isle,  he  had  sunk  the  said  ship,  in  proof  of  which  he 
had  brought  back  her  flag.  The  minister  of  the 
navy,  who  was  present  at  the  audience,  thought  this 
proceeding  rather  questionable ;  but  the  King  of 
Naples  entirely  approved  of  his  captain,  made  him 
an  admiral,  and  decorated  him  with  the  grand 
cordon  of  Saint  Januarius. 

The  next  day  it  was  announced  in  all  the  three 
newspapers  of  Naples  that  Admiral  Bonnacorri,  Duke 
of  Saint-Ferdinand,  had  discovered  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean an  island,  forty-five  miles  in  circumference, 
inhabited  by  a  people  who  spoke  an  unknown  lan- 
guage, the  king  of  which  had  offered  to  the  admiral 
the  hand  of  his  only  daughter.  Each  journal  also 
contained  a  sonnet  to  the  glory  of  the  adventurous 
navigator.  The  first  compared  him  to  Yasco  di 
Gama,  the  second  to  Christopher  Columbus,  the 
third  to  Amerigo  Vespucci. 

The  next  day  the  British  ambassador  went  to  ask 


THE   SPERONARA  125 

explanations  from  the  minister  of  the  Neapolitan 
navy  touching  rumours  injurious  to  the  honour  of 
Great  Britain  as  to  the  destruction  of  an  English 
vessel  which  Admiral  Bonnacorri  claimed  to  have 
sunk.  The  minister  of  the  navy  replied  that  he 
certainly  had  heard  some  vague  rumour  of  that  kind, 
but  he  was  not  aware,  so  far,  whether  it  was  the 
English  or  the  Neapolitan  vessel  that  was  sunk. 
Far  from  being  satisfied  with  this  explanation,  the 
British  ambassador  asserted  that  his  nation  had 
been  insulted  by  the  mere  idea  that  an  English  vessel 
could  be  sunk  by  any  vessel  whatsoever,  and  he  de- 
manded his  passports.  The  minister  of  the  navy 
referred  the  matter  to  the  King  of  Naples,  who 
ordered  him  to  sign  all  the  passports  the  ambassador 
desired,  and  he  commanded  that  his  own  ambassador 
in  London  should  be  ordered  to  quit  the  capital  of 
Great  Britain  at  once. 

Meantime  the  British  government  followed  up  the 
taking  possession  of  the  Julia  Island  with  its  usual 
activity.  It  was  the  very  stopping-place  they  had 
wanted  so  long  on  the  way  from  Gibraltar  to  Malta. 
An  old  lieutenant  who  had  lost  a  leg  at  Aboukir 
and  who  for  some  time  past  had  been  soliciting  a 
reward  of  any  kind  from  the  Lords  of  the  Admiralty, 
was  appointed  governor  of  the  Julia  Island,  and 
received  orders  to  embark  im mediately  for  his  govern- 
ment. The  worthy  sailor  sold  a  little  family  estate 
he  had  inherited  from  his  ancestors,  bought  the 
articles  of  chief  necessity  for  colonization,  went 
aboard  his  frigate,  the  "  Dart,"  with  his  wife  and 
two  daughters,  doubled  Cape  Bretagne,  sailed  down 


126          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

the  Bay  of  Biscay,  passed  through  the  Straits  of 
Gibraltar,  entered  the  Mediterranean,  called  at 
Pantellaria,  arrived  at  latitude  38°,  and  looked  about 
him.  He  sa\v  no  Julia  Island  —  Julia  Island  had 
disappeared,  and  it  is  certain  that  never,  oh  !  never 
more,  has  any  one  heard  tell  of  it. 

The  two  belligerent  powers  who  had  both  made 
warlike  preparations  continued  to  show  their  teeth 
at  each  other  for  some  eighteen  months  ;  then  their 
snarling  grin  degenerated  into  a  stiff'  smile,  until  at 
last  they  embraced  each  other,  and  all  was  over. 

Let  us  leave  the  Julia  Island,  or  the  Isola  San 
Ferdinando,  whichever  they  choose  to  call  it,  and 
return  to  /Etna,  which  may  very  well  be  suspected  of 
being  the  author  of  this  bad  joke  that  came  so  near 
upsetting  the  tranquillity  of  Europe. 

The  word  "/Etna"  is,  according  to  the  learned,  a 
Phoenician  word,  signifying  the  mount  of  the  furnace . 
The  Phoenician  language  was,  it  will  be  seen,  in  the 
style  of  that  which  Covielle  spoke  to  the  Bourgeois 
Gentilhomme  —  expressive  of  much  in  few  letters. 
Many  poets  of  antiquity  declare  that  the  mountain 
was  the  place  where  Deucalion  and  Pyrrha  took 
refuge  during  the  flood  of  the  universe.  On  that 
ground,  Signore  Gemcllaro,  who  was  born  at  Nicolosi, 
can  undoubtedly  claim  the  honour  of  Ixnng  descended 
in  direct  line  from  one  of  the  first  stones  they  threw 
behind  them.  That  leaves  the  Kohans,  the  Mont- 
morencys,  and  the  Noailles  at  an  illimitable  distance. 

Homer  speaks  of  /Etna,  but  without  describing 
it  as  a  volcano.  Pindar  calls  it  a  pillar  of  heaven. 
Thucydides  mentions  three  explosions  after  the  ar- 


THE   SPERONARA  127 

rival  of  the  Hellenic  colonies  that  came  before  the 
one  in  which  he  lived.  There  were  two  eruptions 
at  the  period  of  the  Dionysiuses ;  after  that,  they 
succeeded  one  another  so  rapidly  that  none  but  the 
violent  ones  were  counted.1 

Since  the  eruption  of  1781,  yEtna  has  had,  now 
and  then,  a  little  notion  of  upsetting  Sicily,  but  as 
these  whims  have  had  no  serious  result  it  is  permis- 
sible to  suppose  that  what  she  has  done  in  that 
way  was  solely  out  of  self-respect  and  to  preserve 
her  position  as  a  volcano. 

Of  all  these  eruptions  the  most  terrible  was  that 
of  1669.  As  this  eruption  issued  from  Monte-Rosso 
which  is  only  half  a  mile  from  Nicolosi,  Jadin  and 
I  started  to  see  the  crater,  after  promising  Signore 
Gemellaro  to  dine  with  him. 

It  should  be  distinctly  understood  that  yEtna  con- 
siders herself  too  far  above  all  other  volcanoes  to 
proceed  as  they  do.  Vesuvius,  Stromboli,  and  even 
llecla  pour  the  lava  from  the  top  of  their  craters, 
as  wine  overflows  too  full  a  glass.  yEtna  does  not 
give  herself  that  trouble.  Her  crater  is  merely  a 
.show  crater,  a  crater  of  ceremony,  which  contents 
itself  by  playing  cup-and-ball  with  incandescent 
rocks  as  large  as  ordinary  houses,  which  the  eve  can 
follow  in  their  aerial  ascension  as  it  follows  the  flight 
of  shells  from  a  mortar  ;  but  during  that  exhibition 
the  real  eruption  is  going  on  elsewhere.  When  .Etna 

1  The  chief  eruptions  of  ./Etna  were  in  662  B.  c.,  and,  for  the 
Christian  era,  in  the  years  -2-25,  120,  812,  1169,  12S.i,  1329,  131*3, 
UOS,  1444,  1446,  1147,  1336,  1603,  1607,  1«10,  1614,  1619,  10*34, 
1669,  168-2,  1688,  1689,  1702,  1766,  and  1781. 


128          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

is  in  travail  there  rises  on  her  back,  in  one  spot  or 
another,  a  species  of  boil  about  the  size  of  Mont- 
martre  ;  then  the  boil  bursts,  and  a  river  of  lava  pours 
down  following  the  slope,  burning  or  overthrow- 
ing everything  on  its  way  until  it  ends  in  the  sea. 
This  method  of  proceeding  is  the  reason  why  JEinn  is 
covered  with  a  quantity  of  little  crater-cones  that 
look  like  huge  hay-cocks;  each  of  these  secondary 
volcanoes  has  its  name  and  its  own  particular  date, 
and  all  have  made  in  their  time  more  or  less  noise, 
and  done  more  or  less  damage. 

The  Monte-Rosso  is  in  the  first  rank  of  this  secon- 
dary aristocracy ;  it  would  be  considered,  in  any 
neighbourhood  but  that  of  the  Andes,  the  Cordilleras, 
and  the  Alps,  a  very  pretty  little  mountain,  of  an 
altitude  of  900  feet ;  that  is  to  say,  three  times  the 
height  of  the  towers  of  Notre- Dame.  This  volcano 
owes  its  name  to  the  terrous  scoriae  of  which  it  is 
formed ;  the  ascent  is  easy,  and  a  climb  of  half  an 
hour  brings  one  to  the  crater.  This  is  a  sjxxnes  of 
well,  divided  at  the  bottom  like  a  salt-cellar,  which 
at  the  present  time  has  a  good-natured  air  of  perfect 
tranquillity.  Although  there  is  no  path  into  it, 
persons  can,  if  necessary,  be  lowered  down  bv  ropes  ; 
its  depth  is  about  200  feet,  its  circumference  five  or 
six  hundred. 

This  was  the  mouth,  now  mute  and  cold,  from  which 
there  issued,  in  1GC9,  such  a  rain  of  stones  and  ashes 
that  the  sun  was,  literally,  obscured  for  three  months, 
and  the  wind  blew  the  ashes  to  Malta.  The  violence 
of  the  evacuation  was  such  that  a  rock  fifty  feet  long 
was  flun«r  to  a  distance  of  one  thousand  feet  from  the 


THE   SPERONARA  129 

crater  whence  it  came,  where  it  plunged  into  the 
ground  to  a  depth  of  twenty-five  feet.  Then  the 
lava  followed  the  rock,  rose  boiling  to  the  orifice, 
overflowed  on  the  southern  slope,  and  leaving  Nicolosi 
to  right  and  Boriello  to  left,  bagan  to  flow,  not  as  a 
torrent  but  as  a  river  of  fire,  covering  with  its  burning 
current  the  villages  of  Campo-Rotondo,  San  Pietro, 
and  Gigganeo,  till  it  threw  itself  into  the  harbour  of 
Catania,  driving  before  it  a  portion  of  the  town. 
There  a  terrible  struggle  between  fire  and  water 
began  ;  the  sea,  forced  back,  at  first  gave  way  and 
recoiled  three-quarters  of  a  mile  disclosing  its  depths 
to  the  human  eye.  Ships  were  burned  in  port,  large 
fish  floated  dead  upon  the  surface  of  the  water. 
Then,  as  if  furious  at  its  defeat,  the  sea  returned  to 
attack  the  lava.  The  struggle  lasted  fifteen  days ; 
finally,  the  vanquished  lava  stopped,  and  from  its 
molten  state  passed  to  a  solid  one.  Fifteen  days 
longer  the  sea  boiled  still,  stiffening  the  new  shore  it 
was  forced  to  accept  ;  then,  little  by  little,  the  ebulli- 
tion ceased.  But  the  entire  region  was  devastated  ; 
three  villages  were  annihilated,  Catania  was  three- 
fourths  destroyed,  and  its  port  more  than  half  filled  up. 
From  the  top  of  Monte-Rosso,  or  rather  the  Monti- 
Rossi,  for  the  mountain  divides  into  two  summits 
like  Vesuvius,  one  sees  the  whole  of  this  flow  of  lava, 
five  leagues  long  and  at  places  three  leagues  wide, 
which  two  centuries  have  been  unable  to  cover  with 
more  than  two  inches  of  earth.  From  the  point 
where  I  stood,  to  right,  to  left,  before  and  behind 
me,  within  the  circumference  mv  eve  could  take  in,  I 
counted  twentv-six  mountains,  all  produced  bv  vol- 


130          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

canic  eruptions  and  similar  in  form  and  height  to  the 
one  on  which  I  was. 

In  turning  my  eyes  around  me  I  observed  at  the 
foot  of  another  extinct  volcano,  the  remains  of  the 
famous  convent  of  San  Nicola  il  Vecchio  ;  on  our  way 
down  from  the  Monti  Rossi  we  visited  its  ruins.  It 
was  built,  according  to  Farello,  by  Count  Simon, 
grandson  of  the  Norman  Roger,  the  most  popular 
conqueror  of  Sicily,  known  to  this  day  by  every  peas- 
ant as  the  "  Comte  Ruggiero."  Some  savants  insist 
that  the  monastery  stands  on  the  site  of  the  ancient 
city  of  Inessa ;  others  declare  that  the  said  ancient 
city  stood  on  the  opposite  slope  of  y'Etna;  volumes  on 
the  subject  have  been  exchanged  between  the  erudites 
of  Catania,  Taormina,  and  Messina,  with  the  result 
that  the  facts  are  more  obscure  than  before ;  each 
and  all  having  such  excellent  proofs  for  their  own 
opinion.  On  my  return  to  Catania  one  of  them 
asked  me  what  was  thought  on  the  subject  by  the 
Academy  of  Sciences  in  Paris.  I  replied  that  the 
Academy  of  Sciences,  after  pondering  this  grave 
question  for  some  time,  had  recognized  the  fact  that 
two  cities  of  Inessa  must  have  existed,  built  in 
rivalry  to  each  other;  one  by  the  Naxians  on  the 
southern  slope  of  yEtna,  the  other  by  the  Siccans  on 
the  northern  slope.  The  savant  struck  his  brow  as 
though  he  felt  illuminated  by  a  sudden  idea,  ran  to 
his  desk,  took  a  pen,  and  l>egan  a  volume  which,  as 
I  have  since  been  told,  throws  a  flood  of  light  on  this 
important  question. 

This  monastery,  where,  according  to  the  intentions 
of  its  pious  founder,  the  Benedictines  were  condemned 


THE   SPERONARA  131 

to  live  exposed  to  the  ravages  of  the  volcano  which 
their  prayers  ought  to  have  exorcised,  is  little  more 
than  a  ruin.  The  parts  best  preserved  are  the  chapel 
and  the  famous  hall  where  Count  Weder,  a  second 
Faust,  was  present  at  the  saturnalia  of  Gaetano-Meph- 
istopheles.  A  plateau  which  overhangs  the  monastery 
is  nothing  else  than  a  mass  of  black  lava  rent  into 
deep  gulfs,  from  the  upper  part  of  which  we  could 
look  down  upon  an  amphitheatre  of  extinct  craters. 

After  inspecting  the  ruins  of  this  doubly  interest- 
ing monastery  we  descended  to  dine,  at  half-past  four 
o'clock,  with  our  excellent  host  Gemellaro,  and  with 
all  the  more  alacrity  because  our  morning  meal  had 
well  prepared  us  for  a  second.  We  found  the  table 
laid,  having  hit  upon  the  rare  and  fleeting  moment 
when  no  one  waits  or  causes  others  to  do  so. 

Signore  Gemellaro  is  one  of  those  learned  men  in 
whom  I  delight ;  learned  experimenters,  who  detest 
all  theories  and  talk  only  of  what  they  have  seen. 
During  dinner  the  conversation  rolled,  of  course, 
upon  the  mountain  of  our  host.  I  say  hi*  mountain, 
for  he  is  well  convinced  that  /Etna  belongs  to  him, 
and  he  would  be  much  astonished  if  the  King  of  the 
Two  Sicilies  set  up  a  counter  claim.  After  /Etna, 
that  which  Signore  Gemellaro  thinks  grandest  and 
finest  is  Napoleon,  that  other  extinct  volcano,  which, 
during  an  eruption  of  fourteen  years,  caused  such 
earthquakes  under  thrones  and  empires.  His  dream 
was  to  possess  a  complete  collection  of  all  the  engrav- 
ings made  upon  his  hero.  I  distressed  him  bv  telling 
him  there  were  enough  to  load  four  vessels,  and  that 
the  crater  of  Monte-Rosso  could  not  contain  them. 


132          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

After  dinner  our  host  inquired  into  the  prcpara-j 
tions  we  had  made  for  ascending  .<Etna.  We  toid 
him  they  were  limited  to  a  bottle  of  rum  and  the 
roasting  of  two  or  three  chickens.  Signorc  Gemellaro 
then  cast  his  eyes  on  our  costumes,  and  observing 
Jadin  with  a  woollen  shirt  and  me  with  a  linen  jacket, 
he  asked  us,  shivering,  if  we  had  neither  cloaks  nor 
overcoats.  We  told  him  that  for  the  moment  we 
possessed  absolutely  nothing  but  what  was  on  our 
backs.  "  True  Frenchmen  !  "  he  muttered,  rising. 
"  No  German  or  Englishman  would  start  in  that  way. 
Wait,  wait ! "  And  he  fetched  us  two  heavy  over- 
coats with  hoods,  like  our  military  greatcoats,  assur- 
ing us  that  we  should  not  be  a  couple  of  miles  above 
Nicolosi  before  we  did  homage  to  his  foresight. 

Our  talk  lasted  till  nine  at  night,  when  the  guide 
came  round  with  our  mules.  We  asked  him  if  he 
had  succeeded  in  procuring  provisions.  He  showed 
us  four  of  those  miserable  fowls  that  exist  only  in 
Italy ;  all  four  were  not  worth  a  good  tame  pigeon. 
He  had  also  bought  two  bottles  of  wine,  bread,  grapes, 
and  pears  ;  with  that,  he  said,  any  one  could  make 
the  tour  of  the  world. 

We  mounted  our  animals  and  set  out  into  a  night 
that  seemed  to  as,  coming  from  a  lighted  room,  to 
be  frightfully  dark ;  but,  little  by  little,  we  lx?gan  to 
distinguish  the  landscape,  thanks  to  the  myriad  of 
stars  that  strewed  the  sky.  At  first  we  felt,  by 
the  way  our  mules  sank  l>eneath  us,  that  we  were 
crossing  sand.  Soon  we  reached  the  second  region, 
that  of  forests,  if  indeed  a  few  sparse,  sick) v,  stunled 
tree.*  deserved  that  name.  We  rode  through  it  for 


THE   SPERONARA  133 

nearly  two  hours,  following  with  confidence  the  path 
our  guide,  or  rather  our  mules,  had  taken ;  a  path 
which,  to  judge  by  its  eternal  ups  and  downs,  seemed 
frightfully  rugged.  Already,  for  more  than  an  hour, 
we  had  felt  the  j  ustice  of  Signore  Gemellaro's  predic- 
tions with  regard  to  cold,  so  that  when  we  arrived  at 
a  species  of  hut  without  a  roof,  where  our  mules 
stopped  of  themselves,  we  put  on  our  hooded  coats. 
This  hut  was  called  the  "  Casa  del  Bosco11  or  "del la 
Neve,11  -  —  house  of  the  Wood  or  the  Snow,  —  names 
that  suit  it  successively,  summer  and  winter.  This, 
said  our  guide,  was  our  halting-place.  \Ve  were  now 
half-way  up  the  path  to  the  Casa  Inglese,  only  we 
had,  as  the  peasants  say,  eaten  our  white  bread  first. 

The  Casa  della  Neve  was  a  prelude  to  the  desola- 
tion that  awaited  us  higher  up.  Without  roof,  with- 
out shutters,  without  doors,  it  offered  no  shelter  but 
its  four  walls.  Fortunately,  our  guide  had  supplied 
himself  with  a  little  axe  ;  he  brought  us  an  armful 
of  wood,  and  with  the  help  of  a  phosphorus  match 
we  kindled  a  roaring  fire.  The  reader  will  understand 
how  welcome  it  was  when  I  tell  him  that  a  little 
pocket  thermometer  that  I  carried  with  me,  went 
down  18  degrees  [Reaumur]  since  leaving  Catania. 

Our  fire  lighted,  the  guide  advised  us  to  go  to  sleep, 
and  he  left  us  alone  to  attend  to  his  mules.  We 
tried  to  follow  his  advice  ;  but  no  !  we  were  as  wide- 
awake as  mice ;  it  was  impossible  to  close  an  eye ; 
but  we  made  up  for  sleep  by  several  glasses  of  ruin 
and  a  variety  of  jokes  on  Parisian  friends,  who  were 
at  that  hour  snugly  biking  their  tea  and  little  think- 
ing that  Jadin  and  I  were  gadding  among  the  forests 


134  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

and  craters  of  JEtnu.  We  remained,  sleepless,  in  the 
hut  till  half- past  twelve  o'clock,  at  which  hour  our 
guide  requested  us  to  remount  our  mules. 

During  our  halt  the  heavens  were  enriched  with  a 
crescent  moon  ;  slim  as  it  was  it  cast  a  little  light  ; 
the  trees  were  becoming  fewer  and  fewer,  until  they 
ceased  altogether.  We  were  now  entering  the  third 
region,  and  we  could  feel  by  the  feet  of  our  mules 
when  they  trod  on  lava,  when  they  crossed  ashes,  or 
when  they  were  trampling  a  species  of  moss,  the  only 
vegetation  that  grows  at  that  height.  As  for  eyes, 
they  were  of  little  or  no  utility  ;  the  ground  appeared 
to  them  more  or  less  coloured,  and  that  was  all ;  we 
were  quite  unable  in  such  obscurity  to  distinguish 
details. 

The  higher  we  went,  the  more  intense  became  the 
cold,  and  in  spite  of  our  coats  and  hoods  we  were 
fro/en.  This  change  of  temperature  had  suspended 
conversation  ;  each  of  us,  concentrated  within  him- 
self as  if  to  preserve  what  warmth  he  had,  rode  on 
silently.  I  went  first,  and  though  I  could  not  see 
the  ground  on  which  we  advanced,  I  could  perfectly 
distinguish  on  our  right  gigantic  escarpments  and 
vast  peaks  rising  like  giants,  their  black  forms 
defined  upon  the  indigo  sky.  The  farther  we  ad- 
vanced, the  more  these  apparitions  took  a  weird, 
phantasmal  aspect ;  one  felt  that  Nature  had  never 
made  these  mountains  thus;  but  that  some  long  and 
mighty  struggle  had  despoiled  them.  We  were 
crossing  the  battle-field  of  Titans;  we  were  climb- 
ing Pel  ion  piled  on  Ossa. 

It  was  all  terrible,  sombre,  majestic ;  I  saw  and  felt 


THE  SPERONARA  135 

the  j)oesy  of  this  nocturnal  journey,  but  I  was  so  cold 
that  I  had  no  courage  to  exchange  a  word  with  Jadin 
to  ask  him  if  these  visions  were  the  effect  of  torpor, 
or  whether  I  was  dreaming.  From  time  to  time 
strange  mysterious  noises,  resembling  no  noises  that 
I  had  ever  heard,  came  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
which  seemed  to  moan  and  groan  like  a  living  being. 
These  noises  had  something  unexpected,  lugubrious, 
and  solemn  that  made  one  shiver.  Often,  at  the 
sound,  the  mules  would  stop  and  stoop  their  smok- 
ing nostrils  to  the  soil,  then,  raising  their  heads, 
neigh  sadly,  as  if  they  wanted  to  make  it  known  they 
comprehended  that  great  voice  of  the  Solitude,  and 
that  it  was  not  of  their  own  will  they  had  come  there 
to  trouble  its  mysteries. 

Ever  as  we  rose,  minute  by  minute  the  cold  be- 
came more  intense;  scarcely  had  I  strength  to  lift 
my  flask  of  rum  to  my  lips.  Moreover,  that  opera- 
tion was  followed  by  another  more  difficult  still  — 
that  of  corking  the  flask  ;  my  hands  were  so  fro/en 
that  they  had  no  sensation  of  the  things  they 
touched,  and  my  feet  were  so  heavy  they  seemed 
to  have  an  iron  weight  attached  to  each  leg.  At 
last,  feeling  that  I  was  stiffening  into  torpidity  more 
and  more,  I  made  an  effort  over  myself,  stopped  my 
mule,  and  dismounted.  While  doing  this,  Jadin 
passed  me  on  his  animal.  I  asked  him  if  he  did 
not  want  to  do  likewise  ;  he  shook  his  head  in  sign 
of  refusal  and  rode  on.  At  first  it  was  impossible  to 
walk  ;  I  seemed  to  be  setting  my  naked  feet  on  mil- 
lions of  pins  and  needles.  The  idea  occurred  to  me 
to  use  my  mule,  and  I  grasped  his  tail.  But  he  was 


136          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

too  well  satisfied  at  having  got  rid  of  me  not  to  pre- 
serve his  independence  if  he  could.  Hardly  had  he 
felt  the  contact  of  my  hand  when  he  flung  out  his 
two  hind-legs  ;  one  of  them  struck  me  in  the  thigh 
and  threw  me  ten  feet  back.  My  guide  ran  to  help 
me  and  lifted  me  up. 

Nothing  was  broken ;  moreover,  the  commotion 
had  put  my  blood  in  circulation ;  I  felt  almost  no 
pain,  although  my  fall  showed  that  the  blow  had 
been  violent.  I  began  to  walk  and  I  felt  much 
better.  A  hundred  steps  farther  on  I  found  .lad in 
waiting  for  me.  My  mule,  which  had  joined  his 
without  me  or  the  guide,  told  him  that  an  acci- 
dent of  some  kind  had  happened.  I  reassured  him, 
and  we  went  on,  I  on  foot.  It  was  now  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning.  The  sombre  arch  of  the  sky  was 
beginning  to  pale ;  a  faint  dawn  lighted  the  ground 
on  which  we  trod,  bringing  with  it  a  more  glacial  air 
than  that  we  had  hitherto  breathed.  In  this  pallid, 
lustreless  light  we  presently  saw  before  us  something 
that  looked  like  a  house;  we  approached  it,  Jadin 
on  his  mule  at  a  trot,  and  I  running  as  best  I  could. 
The  guide  pushed  open  a  door,  and  we  entered  the 
Casa  Inglese,  built  at  the  foot  of  the  cone  for  the 
comfort  of  travellers. 

My  first  cry  was  for  fire ;  it  was  one  of  those  in- 
stinctive desires  which  are  easier  to  form  than  to 
see  accomplished  ;  the  upper  limits  of  the  forest  are 
six  long  miles  from  the  Casa,  and  in  its  neighlxnir- 
hood  —  all  lava,  ashes  and  snow  —  not  a  blade  of 
grass,  not  a  plant  can  grow.  The  guide  lighted  a 
lamp  that  he  found  in  a  corner,  closed  the  door  as 


THE  SPERONARA  137 

hermetically  as  possible,  and  told  us  to  warm  our- 
selves as  best  we  could  by  wrapping  our  hooded  coats 
about  us  and  eating  something,  while  he  took  the 
mules  to  the  stable. 

As,  all  things  considered,  the  wisest  thing  to  do 
was  to  get  out  of  the  state  of  torpor  in  which 
we  were,  we  began  to  tramp  up  and  down  as  well  as 
we  could.  Within  the  house  the  thermometer  was 
six  degrees  below  zero  [Reaumur],  a  difference  of  41 
degrees  from  the  temperature  of  Catania. 

Our  guide  returned,  bringing  a  handful  of  straw 
and  a  few  dry  branches,  which  we  owed  no  doubt 
to  the  magnificence  of  some  Englishman  who  had 
preceded  us.  It  sometimes  happens  that  those 
worthy  insularies,  always  perfectly  well-informed  as 
to  the  precautions  they  ought  to  take,  hire  an  extra 
mule,  and  in  crossing  the  forest  load  it  with  wood. 
Little  of  an  Anglomaniac  as  I  am,  this  is  a  piece  of 
advice  that  I  give  to  whosoever  intends  to  make  the 
ascent  of  ^Etna.  A  mule  costs  one  piastre,  and  I 
know  I  would  gladly  have  given  ten  louis  for  a 
faggot. 

The  sight  of  the  fire,  however  short  its  duration, 
restored  our  courage.  We  gathered  to  it  as  if  to 
devour  it,  stretching  our  feet  into  the  flame;  and 
then,  a  little  thawed,  we  proceeded  to  think  of 
breakfast. 

Everything  was  fro/en,  —  bread,  chickens,  wine, 
fruits ;  nothing  but  our  rum  remained  intact. 
We  devoured  two  of  the  chickens  as  if  they  were 
larks ;  we  gave  the  third  to  our  guide  and  kept  the 
fourth  for  hunger  to  come.  As  for  the  fruit,  it  was 


138  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

like  biting  into  ice  ;  we  therefore  drank  a  cup  of 
rum  in  place  of  dessert  and  felt  ourselves  a  little 
revived. 

It  was  half  past  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Our 
guide  reminded  us  that  we  had  still  before  us  an  as- 
cent of  three-quarters  of  an  hour  at  the  very  least, 
and  that  if  we  wished  to  reach  the  summit  of  the 
cone  before  sunrise  there  was  no  time  to  lose. 

We  left  the  Casa  Inglese.  Objects  were  now 
beginning  to  be  distinguishable ;  all  around  us  ex- 
tended a  vast  plain  of  snow,  in  the  middle  of  which, 
sloping  at  an  angle  of  45  degrees  or  about  that, 
rose  the  cone  of  ./Etna.  Below  us  all  was  darkness  ; 
in  the  east  alone,  the  faintest  tint  of  opal  coloured 
the  sky,  on  which  were  vigorously  defined  the  moun- 
tains of  Calabria. 

At  a  hundred  steps  beyond  the  Casa  we  found  the 
first  billows  of  a  plain  of  lava,  its  jet  black  tones 
contrasting  with  the  snow  in  the  midst  of  which  it 
lay  like  a  sombre  island.  We  were  forced  to  mount 
its  solid  waves,  clambering  from  one  to  another  as  I 
had  already  done  at  Chamounix  upon  the  Mer  de 
Glace,  —  with  this  difference,  that  the  sharp  spines  of 
the  lava  cut  the  leather  of  our  boots  and  wounded 
our  feet.  This  crossing,  which  lasted  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  was  one  of  the  most  painful  incidents  of  the 
trip. 

At  last  we  reached  the  foot  of  the  cone,  which, 
though  it  rises  thirteen  hundred  feet  from  the  plateau 
on  which  we  stood,  was  entirely  free  of  snow,  either 
iK'cause  its  slope  is  too  rapid  for  the  snow  to  remain, 
or  Ix'causc  its  inward  (ires  will  not  allow  a  flake  upon 


THE  SPERONARA  139 

its  surface.  This  is  the  cone,  eternally  in  motion, 
that  changes  its  shape  with  every  new  eruption, 
burying  that  shape  in  the  old  crater,  and  re-forming 
itself  with  another. 

We  began  to  climb  this  new  mountain,  wholly 
composed  of  friable  earth,  mingled  with  stones 
which  loosened  beneath  our  feet  and  rolled  away 
behind  us.  At  certain  places  the  pitch  was  so  steep 
that  we  could  touch  with  our  hands  the  slope  above 
us  without  stooping ;  and  as  we  rose,  the  air  rarefied 
and  became  at  every  moment  less  and  less  breath- 
able. I  remembered  all  that  Balmat  had  told  me 
of  his  first  ascension  of  Mont  Ulanc,  and  I  began  to 
feel  precisely  the  same  effects.  Though  we  were 
already  nearly  a  thousand  feet  above  the  line  of 
eternal  snows  and  had  still  eight  hundred  feet  to 
climb,  the  hooded  coat  I  had  upon  my  shoulders 
became  unbearable,  and  I  felt  it  was  impossible  to 
carry  it  a  moment  longer;  it  weighed  upon  me  like 
one  of  those  leaden  copes  that  Dante  saw  in  hell's 
sixth  circle  crushing  the  shoulders  of  hypocrites.  I 
therefore  left  it  on  the  path,  not  having  the  courage 
to  carry  it  farther,  and  told  the  guide  to  pick  it  up 
as  we  repassed.  Soon  it  was  the  same  with  the 
stick  I  held  in  my  hand  and  the  hat  I  wore  on 
my  head.  I  abandoned  the  two  articles  successively, 
and  they  rolled  to  the  foot  of  the  cone,  where  they 
were  stopped  by  the  sea  of  lava,  so  steep  was  the 
descent.  I  saw  Jadin  in  his  turn  getting  rid  of  all 
the  superfluities  of  his  equipment,  and  stopping  at 
every  hundred  feet  to  recover  his  breath. 

We  were  only  a  third  of  the  way  up  ;  we  had  taken 


140  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

nearly  half  an  hour  to  climb  four  hundred  feet ;  the 
eastern  sky  grew  lighter  and  lighter ;  the  fear  of 
not  arriving  at  the  summit  of  the  cone  in  time  for 
the  sunrise  spurred  our  courage,  and  we  started  with 
fresh  vigour,  not  pausing  to  look  about  us  at  the 
vast  horizon  that  enlarged  at  every  step  around  our 
feet.  But  the  farther  we  advanced,  the  more  the 
difficulties  increased  ;  the  slope  became  more  rapid, 
the  ground  more  friable,  the  air  more  rarefied.  Soon 
we  began  to  hear,  on  our  right,  subterranean  roars 
that  forced  themselves  on  our  attention  ;  our  guide 
walked  in  advance,  and  led  us  to  a  fissure  from  which 
a  great  noise  issued,  and,  driven  by  some  inward 
current  of  air,  a  thick,  sulphureous  smoke.  Ap- 
proaching the  edge  of  this  cleft  we  saw,  at  a  depth 
we  could  not  measure,  an  incandescent  red  and 
liquid  bottom.  Fortunately  the  wind  did  not  send 
the  smoke  in  our  direction,  or  we  should  have  been 
asphvxiated,  so  horrible  an  odour  of  sulphur  came 
with  it. 

After  a  halt  of  some  minutes  on  the  edge  of  this 
furnace,  we  started  again,  going  up  diagonally  for 
greater  ease.  My  head  began  to  beat  and  ring,  as 
though  the  blood  were  coming  out  of  my  ears,  and 
the  air,  that  grew  less  and  less  breathable,  made  me 
pant  as  if  my  breath  would  fail  me  altogether.  I 
wished  to  lie  down  and  rest  a  moment,  but  the  earth 
exhaled  such  an  odour  of  sulphur  that  I  could  not 
do  so.  I  then  bethought  me  of  binding  my  cravat 
across  my  mouth  and  breathing  through  its  texture ; 
that,  relieved  me. 

At  last,  little  by  little,  we  arrived  at  three-quarters 


THE   SPERONARA  141 

of  the  ascent,  and  we  saw  at  a  few  hundred  steps 
above  us  the  summit  of  the  mountain.  Then  we 
made  a  final  effort  and,  half  upright  and  partly  on 
all-fours,  we  clambered  that  short  distance,  not 
daring  to  look  below  us  for  fear  our  heads  should 
turn  giddy,  so  steep  was  the  fall  of  the  ground.  At 
last  Jadin,  who  was  a  few  steps  in  advance  of  me, 
uttered  a  cry  of  triumph  ;  he  was  there  !  he  stood 
in  front  of  the  crater,  and  a  few  seconds  later  I  was 
beside  him.  We  found  ourselves  literally  between 
two  abysses. 

Once  there,  and  needing  no  longer  to  make  violent 
motions,  we  began  to  breathe  with  more  facility  ; 
besides  which,  the  spectacle  before  our  eyes  was  so 
striking  that  our  discomforts  disappeared,  great  as 
they  were. 

We  stood  in  front  of  the  crater,  —  that  is  to  say,  of 
an  immense  pit,  eight  miles  in  circumference  and 
nine  hundred  feet  deep ;  the  walls  of  this  vast  ex- 
cavation being  covered  from  top  to  bottom  with 
scarified  substances  of  sulphur  and  alum.  At  the 
bottom,  so  far  as  we  could  see  from  the  distance  at 
which  we  stood,  there  was  some  substance  then  in 
ebullition,  and  from  the  monstrous  abyss  rose  a 
slender,  tortuous  smoke  like  a  gigantic  snake  stand- 
ing erect  on  its  tail.  The  edges  of  the  crater  were 
scooped  out  irregularly  and  more  or  less  elevated. 
We  stood  on  one  of  its  highest  points. 

Our  guide  left  us  for  a  moment  to  contemplate 
that  spectacle  in  silence,  merely  catching  us  from 
time  to  time  by  our  jackets  when  we  went  too  near 
the  edge  ;  for  the  stone  is  so  friable  that  it  mi<rht 


142  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

easily  give  way  beneath  our  feet  and  renew  the  old 
story  of  Empedocles ;  then  he  asked  us  to  stand  at 
some  twenty  feet  distance  from  the  crater  to  avoid 
all  risk  of  accident,  and  to  look  about  us. 

The  east,  which  had  passed  from  the  opal  tints 
we  had  seen  at  the  Casa  Inglese  to  a  tender  rose, 
was  now  suffused  with  the  flames  of  the  sun,  whose 
disk  was  beginning  to  rise  beyond  the  mountains  of 
Calabria.  On  the  flanks  of  those  mountains,  of  a 
dark  and  uniform  blue,  the  villages  and  towns 
detached  themselves  like  small  white  spots.  The 
Straits  of  Messina  seemed  a  little  river,  while  to 
right  and  left  the  seas  stretched  away  like  mirrors. 
To  left  the  mirror  was  dotted  with  black  specks ; 
these  specks  were  the  islands  of  the  Liparian  archi- 
pelago. From  time  to  time  one  of  them  shone  out 
like  an  intermittent  lighthouse;  it  was  Stromboli, 
casting  its  flame.  To  the  west,  all  was  still  dark. 
The  shadow  of  vEtna  was  thrown  across  the  whole  of 
western  Sicily. 

•/ 

During  three-quarters  of  an  hour  the  sight  grew 
more  and  more  magnificent.  I  have  seen  the  sunrise 
from  the  Ilighi  and  the  Faulhorn,  those  titans  of 
Switzerland ;  but  nothing  is  comparable  to  what  is 
seen  from  /Etna  :  before  us,  Calabria  from  the  l'i//o  to 
Cape  DelTArmi,  the  Straits  from  Scylla  to  Reggio, 
the  Tyrrhenian  Sea,  and  the  Ionian  Sea ;  to  left,  the 
isles  of  Eolus,  that  seem  within  reach  of  one's  hand  ; 
to  right,  Malta,  floating  on  the  horizon  like  a  semi- 
transparent  mist ;  around  us,  all  Sicily,  seen  as  the 
bird  sees  it,  with  its  shores  dentelled  by  capes,  prom- 
ontories, ports,  bays,  roadsteads  ;  its  fifteen  cities, 


TUP:   SPERONARA  143 

its  three  hundred  villages ;  its  mountains  that  look 
like  hillocks,  its  valleys  like  the  furrow  of  a  plough- 
share ;  its  rivers,  threads  of  silver  through  the 
meads ;  and  last,  the  crater,  immense,  bellowing, 
filled  with  flames  and  smoke ;  above  its  head  the 
heavens,  and  hell  beneath  its  feet :  such  a  sight 
made  us  forget  all  —  fatigue,  danger,  suffering.  I 
admired  wholly,  without  restriction,  in  perfect  faith, 
with  the  eyes  of  the  body  and  the  eyes  of  the  soul. 
Never  had  I  seen  God  so  near  and,  consequently,  so 
great. 

We  stayed  an  hour  thus,  surveying  the  entire  old 
world  of  Homer,  Virgil,  Ovid,  and  Theocritus,  with- 
out the  idea  occurring  to  either  Jadin  or  myself  to 
touch  a  pencil,  so  much  did  we  feel  that  the  scene 
entered  deeply  into  our  hearts  and  would  remain 
engraved  there  without  the  help  of  sketch  or  writing. 
Then  we  cast  a  last  look  on  that  horizon  of  fifteen 
hundred  miles,  which  is  seen  but  once  in  a  lifetime, 
and  began  the  descent. 

Except  for  the  danger  of  rolling  from  the  top  to 
the  bottom  of  the  cone,  the  difficulty  of  descending 
is  not  comparable  to  that  of  the  ascent.  In  ten 
minutes  we  were  on  the  lava  island,  and  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  later  at  the  Casa  Inglese.  The  cold,  though 
stinging,  had  ceased  to  be  painful  ;  we  entered  the 
house  to  arrange  ourselves  a  little,  for  our  toilet, 
as  I  have  said,  had  undergone  a  variety  of  modifi- 
cations during  the  ascent. 

This  P'nglish  house,  which  the  ingratitude  of 
travellers  will  end  by  reducing  to  the  condition  of 
the  ("asa  della  Neve,  is  still  a  precious  gift,  although 


144  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

an  indirect  one,  of  the  scientific  philanthropy  of  our 
excellent  host,  Signore  Gemellaro.  He  was  scarcely 
twenty  years  of  age  before  he  saw  of  what  incalcu- 
lable benefit  to  persons  ascending  for  meteorological 
experiments  would  be  a  house  where  they  could  rest 
during  the  fatigue  of  ascension,  and  get  relief  from 
the  excessive  cold  that  renders  the  region  uninhabit- 
able. As  a  result,  he  addressed  his  co-citizens,  by 
voice  and  in  writing,  ten  several  times,  trying  to 
obtain  from  them  a  voluntary  subscription  ;  but  his 
efforts  had  no  success. 

About  this  time  a  little  inheritance  came  to  him  ; 
he  then  resolved  to  have  recourse  to  no  one;  and  he 
built  with  his  own  money  a  little  house,  which  he  left 
open  gratuitously  for  travellers.  This  house  was 
situated,  by  his  calculation  and  that  of  his  brother, 
at  a  height  of  9219  feet  above  sea-level.  A  grateful 
traveller  wrote  upon  its  door  these  words : 

Casa  hire  quantula  Etnam  perlustrantibus  grutln- 
sima. 

The  house  was  thenceforth  called  La  Gratissima. 

But  in  building  La  Gratissima,  Signore  Gemellaro 
had  done  only  as  much  as  his  individual  means 
enabled  him  to  do;  that  is,  he  had  given  a  shelter 
for  scientific  men.  That  was  not  enough,  he  thought ; 
he  wished  to  supply  means  of  study  to  such  men 
by  furnishing  all  the  instruments  necessary  for  the 
meteorological  observations  that  they  came  from  all 
parts  of  the  world  to  make.  This  was  at  the  period 
when  the  English  occupied  Sicily.  Signore  Gomel  - 
laro  applied  to  Lord  Forbes,  the  general  of  the 
British  armv. 


THE   SPERONAUA  145 

Lord  Forbes  not  only  adopted  GemellarcTs  plan, 
but  he  resolved  to  give  it  an  even  broader  develop- 
ment. He  opened  a  subscription,  at  the  head  of 
which  he  put  his  own  name  for  71,000  francs.  The 
subscription  thus  headed  soon  amounted  to  the 
desired  sum,  and  Lord  Forbes  built,  close  beside 
the  little  house  of  Gemellaro,  called  for  the  last 
seven  years  La  Gratissima,  a  building  of  three 
rooms,  two  studies,  and  a  stable  for  sixteen  horses. 
This  was  the  house,  a  palace  compared  to  its  puny 
neighbour,  which  was  called,  after  its  founders,  the 
Casa  Inglese.  At  the  present  time  La  Gratissima  is 
in  ruins,  and  the  English  house,  dilapidated  more 
and  more  by  passing  travellers,  threatens  soon  to 
offer  them  nothing  better  than  the  shelter  of  four 
walls.1 

After  a  short  halt  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  dis- 
pose of  our  last  chicken  and  the  rest  of  our  bread,  we 
left  the  Casa  Inglese  and  came  out  upon  the  plateau 
called,  in  derision  no  doubt,  the  plain  del  Frumento 
[wheat].  It  was  entirely  covered  with  snow,  although 
this  was  the  hottest  time  of  year.  We  turned  aside 
to  the  left  to  see  the  valley  del  Bore  ;  at  every  step 
we  made  in  the  virgin  snow  we  sank  six  inches  at 
the  least. 

The  valley  del  Bore  would  make  a  magnificent 
decoration  for  hell  in  the  "  Diablo  Amoureux "  or 
"  La  Tentation."  I  have  never  seen  anything  more 
gloomy,  more  desolate,  than  this  gigantic  precipice, 

1  It  was  repaired  on  the  occasion  of  a  visit  from  Kin?  Uni- 
berto,  and  is  now  kept  up  by  the  Italian  Alpine  Club.  An 
observatory  has  been  built  beside  it.  -  TK. 

10 


146  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

with  its  cascades  of  jet-black  lava,  congealed  in  their 
course  down  the  incandescent  earth.  Not  a  tree,  not 
an  herb,  not  a  moss,  not  a  living  thing ;  a  total 
absence  of  noise,  movement,  and  life  itself.  To  the 
three  regions  dividing  .'Etna  there  should  certainly 
be  added  a  fourth  more  terrible  than  the  rest  —  that 
of  fire.  In  the  depths  of  the  valley  del  Bove,  we 
saw,  three  or  four  thousand  feet  below  us,  two 
extinct  volcanoes  opening  their  twin  jaws.  They 
looked  to  us  like  molehills,  but  they  were  really 
mountains  1500  feet  high. 

It  needed  all  the  insistence  of  our  guide  to  tear  us 
from  this  spectacle ;  the  assurance  that  we  had 
thirty  miles  to  do  in  returning  to  Catania  had  little 
or  no  effect  upon  us.  There  was  Catania  beneath 
our  feet ;  we  could  almost  touch  it ;  how  could  there 
be  those  thirty  miles  the  guide  talked  of? 

We  mounted  our  mules,  however,  and  started.  Four 
hours  later  we  were  again  with  Signore  Gemellaro  ;  we 
had  quitted  him  with  a  feeling  of  friendship,  we 
returned  to  him  with  feelings  of  gratitude.  And 
yet  he  is  one  of  the  men  whom  governments  for- 
get;  no  recollection  of  his  merit  seeks  him  out,  no 
favours  reward  him.  Signore  Gemellaro  is  not  even 
a  correspondent  of  the  Institute  !  It  is  true  that 
this  good  and  dear  Gemellaro  is  neither  the  better 
nor  the  worse  for  that. 

We  reached  Catania  at  eleven  at  night,  and  the 
next  day,  by  five  in  the  morning,  we  were  once 
more  on  board  our  speronara  and  setting  sail  for 
Siracusa. 


VI 

SIRACUSA 

OUR  return  was  joy  to  the  whole  ship's  com- 
pany. Apart  from  the  kick  of  the  mule,  from 
which,  it  is  true,  I  still  felt  a  rather  sharp  pain,  the 
journey  had  ended  without  accident.  Each  sailor 
kissed  our  hands  as  if,  like  ^Eneas,  we  returned  from 
hell.  As  for  Milord,  who  since  the  affair  of  the 
optician's  cat  had  been  as  much  as  possible  imprisoned 
on  board  in  charge  of  his  two  friends,  Pietro  and 
Giovanni,  his  joy  was  unbounded. 

The  weather  was  magnificent.  Since  our  great 
tempest  not  a  cloud  was  in  the  sky  ;  the  wind,  com- 
ing from  Calabria  pushed  us  gently  as  if  by  its  hand. 
The  coast  we  were  hugging  was  peopled  with  mem- 
ories. At  a  league  from  Catania  a  few  scattered 
stones  still  mark  the  site  of  ancient  Ilybla;  after 
Ilvbla  came  the  Symaethus,  which  has  changed  its 
ancient  classic  name  to  that  of  Giaretta.  Formerly, 
so  say  the  ancients,  the  Symsvthus  was  navigable ; 
to-day  it  bears  not  the  tiniest  little  boat.  In  ex- 
change, its  waters,  receiving  the  sulphureous  oils,  the 
naphtha  jets,  and  the  petroleum  of  /Etna,  have  the 
faculty  of  condensing  that  bituminous  liquid,  thus 
enriching  its  mouth  with  a  beautiful  yellow  amber, 
which  the  peasants  collect  and  take  to  Catania,  where 
it  is  carved. 


148  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

Next,  we  came  within  sight  of  the  lake  Pergusa, 
where,  as  Ovid  tells  us,  the  swans  are  not  seen  to 
glide,  —  a  tranquil,  transparent,  meditative  lake,  veiled 
by  a  curtain  of  forests  and  reflecting  on  its  bosom 
the  flowers  of  an  eternal  springtide.  It  was  on  its 
bank  that  Persephone  was  playing  with  her  young 
companions,  filling  her  basket  with  iris,  violets,  and 
heartVease,  when  she  was  seen,  beloved,  and  kid- 
napped by  Pluto,  while  she,  a  chaste  and  innocent 
young  girl,  tearing  her  robe  in  her  excess  of  sorrow, 
wept  as  many  tears  for  her  lost  flowers  as  for  her 
threatened  virginity. 

After  the  lake,  came  the  fields  of  the  Lsrstrigoni- 
ans  ;  next  Lentini,  the  ancient  Lcontinoi,  where  the 
inhabitants  preserved  the  lion's  skin  given  them  by 
Heracles,  as  their  device,  when  he  founded  their 
city  ;  then  Augusta,  built  on  the  site  of  ancient 
Megara, —  Augusta,  of  bloody,  infamous  memory, 
which  cut  the  throats  of  three  hundred  blind  soldiers 
returning  from  Egypt  in  1799 ;  then  last,  after 
Megara,  we  came  to  Thapsus,  couchant  in  the  sea  : 

44  Pantagise,  Megarosque  sinus,  Thapsumquc  jacentem." 

As  we  pursued  our  voyage  we  were  struck  with 
the  change  of  aspect  of  the  coast.  Instead  of  fertile 
fields  gently  sloping  to  the  sea  and  covered  with 
reeds  that  supplied  a  flute  to  Polyphemus  and  a 
shelter  to  the  loves  of  Acis  and  Galatea,  rose  great 
cliffs  from  which  flew  thousands  of  pigeons  as  we 
passed  them.  Towards  four  in  the  afternoon  a  reef 
surmounted  by  a  cross  reminded  passers  of  the  wreck 
of  certain  vessels.  At  last,  rounding  the  cape  of 


THE  SPERONAHA  149 

Santa  Panagia,  we  saw  the  first  lines  of  the  walls 
of  Siraeusa  and  we  entered  her  port  to  the  noise  of  a 
school  of  drummer-boys  doing  their  exercise.  That 
was  the  first  disillusion  provided  for  us  by  the 
daughter  of  Archias  the  Corinthian. 

Issuing  from  the  island  of  Ortygia  to  build  upon 
the  mainland  Achradina,  Tyche,  Neapolis,  and  Olvm- 
pieum,  Siracusa,  after  seeing  the  fall  into  ruins  of 
each  of  her  four  daughters  has  now  returned  to  her 
primitive  cradle.  To-day  it  is  simply  a  town  of  less 
than  two  miles  in  circumference,  containing  one 
hundred  and  sixteen  thousand  souls,  and  surrounded 
by  walls,  bastions,  and  courtines,  built  by  Charles  V. 
In  the  days  of  Strabo  it  had  a  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  inhabitants,  about  as  many  as  the  modern 
city,  with  a  circumference  of  one  hundred  and  eighty 
stadia  —  60  miles.  Then,  as  its  population  increased 
and  its  walls  and  its  five  towns  could  no  longer 
contain  it,  it  founded  A  era1,  Casmena?,  Camarina,  and 
Henna. 

In  the  days  of  Cicero,  fallen  as  he  found  it  from 
its  ancient  prosperity,  here  is  what  it  still  was  to  his 
eyes  : 

"  Siracusa  is  built  in  a  situation  at  once  strong  and 
pleasant.  The  town  can  be  reached  easily  from  all 
sides,  whether  by  land  or  sea  ;  her  harbours,  inclosed 
as  it  were,  in  the  circle  of  her  walls,  have  many  en- 
trances, but  these  harbours  are  all  connected  with 
one  another.  A  part  separated  by  this  junction 
forms  an  island  :  this  island  is  inclosed  in  the  city, 
which  is  so  vast  that  we  may  really  say  it  is  one  city, 
but  composed  of  four  large  towns.  On  the  island  is 


150          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

the  palace  of  Achron,  which  the  money-lenders  use : 
here  also  rise,  among  other  temples,  those  of  Diana 
and  Minerva,  which  are  the  most  remarkable.  At  the 
extremity  of  this  island  is  a  spring  of  water,  named 
Arethusa,  of  surprising  si/.e,  rich  in  fish,  which  would 
be  invaded  by  the  sea  without  a  dike  that  protects  it. 
The  second  city  is  Achradina,  where  is  a  great  public 
square,  with  beautiful  porticos,  a  prvtaneum  rich  in 
ornament,  a  very  large  edifice  that  serves  as  a  place 
of  meeting  in  which  to  tre.it  of  public  affairs,  and  a 
magnificent  temple  dedicated  to  Jupiter  Olympius. 
The  third  city  is  Tyche;  it  received  its  name  from  a 
temple  of  Fortune  that  formerly  existed.  It  incloses 
a  very  vast  space  for  exercises  of  the  body,  and  several 
temples.  This  quarter  of  Siracusa  is  very  populous. 
Finally,  the  fourth  city  is  named  Neapolis.  At  the 
upper  part  of  this  city  is  a  very  large  theatre  ;  besides 
which,  it  possesses  two  noble  temples,  the  temple  of 
Ceres  and  the  temple  of  Proserpine  ;  one  may  also 
remark  there  a  statue  of  Apollo  that  is  very  fine."1 

That  was  the  Siracusa  of  Cicero,  such  as  the  wars 
of  Athens,  Carthage,  and  Rome  had  made  her;  such 
as  the  depredations  of  Verres  had  left  her.  But  the 
old  Siracusa,  the  Siracusa  of  Iliero  and  Dionvsius, 
the  veritable  Pentapolis,  was  very  differently  beauti- 
ful, very  differently  rich,  very  differently  splendid. 
That  city  had  a  circumference  of  twenty-four  miles; 
she  had  a  population  of  one  million  two  hundred 
thousand  inhabitants,  whose  excessive  wealth  became 
proverbial,  so  that  it  was  said  of  any  man  who  boasted 
of  his  wealth  :  "  He  has  not  a  tithe  of  that  possessed 
by  a  Siracusan." 


THE  SPERONARA  151 

Siracusa,  that  Sinicusa,  had  an  army  of  one  hundred 
thousand  men  and  ten  thousand  horses  distributed 
within  her  walls;  she  had  six  hundred  vessels  plou^h- 
in^  the  seas  from  the  straits  of  Gades  to  Tyre,  and 
from  Cartilage  to  Marseilles.  She  had  three  harbours 
open  to  all  the  navies  of  the  world  :  Trogilus,  over- 
looked by  the  walls  of  Aehradina,  which  was  skirted 
by  the  road  leading  from  Ortvgia  to  Catania;  the 
Great  Harbour,  the  Slcanum  aitms  of  Virgil,  which 
contained  one  hundred  and  twenty  vessels  ;  the  Little 
Harbour,  portiut  mamorcus^  which  Hiero  surrounded 
with  palaces  and  Dionysius  paved;  besides  which,  so 
that  Siracusa  might  have  no  cause  to  envy  other  cities, 
she  had  Athens  for  rival,  Carthage  for  allv,  Home 
for  enemv,  Archimedes  for  defender,  Dionysius  for 
ruler,  and  Timoleon  for  deliverer. 

At  six  o'clock    we    set    foot    ashore    on    ()rtv<na. 

.    O 

They  made  us  go  through  endless  port  formalities, 
by  which  we  lost  a  full  half-hour,  so  that  once  arrived 
in  Siracusa  we  had  time  only  to  look  fora  hotel,  dine, 
and  go  to  bed,  postponing  all  visits  till  the  morrow. 
I  had  a  letter  to  a  young  man  of  whom  the  friend 
who  introduced  me  said  marvels.  This  was  the 
Conte  di  Gargallo,  son  of  the  Marchese  di  Gargallo, 
to  whom  Naples  owes  the  finest  translation  of  Horace 
made  in  Italy.  The  count  was,  my  friend  told  me, 
witty  as  a  Frenchman  and  hospitable  as  an  old  Sira- 
cusan,  —  praise  that  seemed  to  me  exaggerated  until 
I  saw  the  count,  and  inadequate  after  I  knew  him. 

At  eight  in  the  morning  I  presented  myself  at  his 
house.  lie  was  still  in  bed.  They  took  my  friend's 
letter  and  my  card  up  to  him.  lie  jumped  out  of 


152  JOURNEYS   WITH    DUMAS 

bed,  ran  to  me,  and  held  out  his  hand  with  such  cor- 
diality that  from  that  moment  I  felt  we  were  friends 
forever.  lie  had  never,  at  this  time,  been  in  Paris, 
yet  he  spoke  French  as  though  he  were  born  and  bred 
in  Touraine,  and  knew  our  literature  as  a  man  who 
had  made  a  special  study  of  it.  At  the  first  words 
he  said,  the  first  gesture  he  made,  he  reminded  me, 
in  accent,  mind,  and  ways  of  my  dear  good  Mery, 
whom  he  had  never  seen,  and  knew  only  by  name. 

The  count  put  his  house,  carriage,  and  person  at 
our  service.  We  declined  with  thanks  the  first  offer 
and  accepted  the  two  others.  It  was  agreed  that  to 
give  some  order  to  our  investigations  we  should  begin 
with  Ortygia,  which,  as  I  have  said,  is  now  the  only 
Siracusa ;  after  which  we  would  visit  successively  the 
sites  of  Neapolis,  Achradina,  Tyche,  and  Olympieum. 

Our  first  visit  was  to  the  Museum,  a  modern  crea- 
tion of  some  twenty-five  years1  standing.  Naples  has 
a  way  of  taking  all  the  best  it  can  find  in  Sicilv  ; 
nevertheless  there  remains  in  the  Museum  a  noble 
statue  of  vEsculapius,  and  the  famous  Venus  Callipyge 
of  which  Athemrus  speaks.  The  statue  of  the  god- 
dess seemed  to  me  worthy  of  its  reputation. 

From  the  Museum  we  went  to  the  site  of  the  an- 
cient temple  of  Artemis,  the  most  ancient  Greek 
building  in  Siracusa.  The  city  owed  a  temple  to  that 
goddess,  for  Ortygia  belongs  to  her.  She  obtained 
it  from  Zeus  when  he  divided  Sicily  between  Pallas, 
Persephone,  and  herself;  and  she  had  given  it  its 
name  in  memory  of  the  wood  of  Ortygia  at  Delos, 
where  she  was  born  ;  consequently,  a  festival  of  three 
days  was  held  in  Siracusa  in  her  honour.  It  was 


THE  SPERONARA  153 

during  one  of  these  festivals  that  the  Romans,  checked 
for  three  years  by  the  genius  of  Archimedes,  sei/ed 
the  city.  Two  Doric  columns,  encased  in  a  partition 
wall  of  the  strada  Trabochetto,  are  all  that  remain 
of  this  temple. 

The  temple  of  Pallas,  converted  into  a  cathedral 
in  the  12th  century,  is  better  preserved  than  that  of 
her  half-sister,  and  no  doubt  owes  its  preservation  to 
the  transformation  it  has  undergone  ;  the  columns 
left  standing  are  Doric,  fluted,  and  projecting  on  the 
exterior  of  the  wall  that  unites  them  ;  they  in- 
cline to  one  side  since  the  earthquake  of  1542. 

I  reserved  my  visit  to  the  fountain  of  Arethusa 
for  the  last.  The  fountain  of  Arethusa  is,  for  every 
poet,  an  old  school  friend  :  Virgil  invokes  her  in  his 
tenth  Eclogue,  addressed  to  his  friend  Gallus.  Ovid 
relates  certain  things  that  do  the  highest  honour  to 
the  morality  of  the  nymph.  It  is  true  that  he  puts 
the  tale  into  the  mouth  of  the  nymph  herself,  who, 
like  other  writers  of  memoirs,  may  have  painted  her 
portrait  at  half-length  onlv.  However  that  may  be, 
here  is  what  public  rumour  says  of  her  : 

Arethusa  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  bash- 
ful of  the  nymphs  of  Artemis.  A  huntress,  like  the 
daughter  of  Latona,  she  passed  her  time  in  the 
woods,  chasing  the  deer,  and  modestly  ashamed  of 
her  beauty,  which  would  have  been  the  glory  of 
other  women.  One  day,  after  hunting  a  roebuck, 
she  ran  out,  dishevelled  and  breathless,  from  the 
forest  of  Styniphale,  and  saw  before  her  a  little 
stream,  so  pure,  so  calm,  so  gently  flowing,  that 
although  it  was  several  feet  deep  its  gravelly  bottom 


154          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

was  plainly  seen.  The  nymph  was  warm  ;  she  began 
by  dabbling  her  pretty  bare  feet  in  the  water ;  then 
she  went  in  to  her  knees  ;  then,  wooed  by  the  soli- 
tude, she  unfastened  the  hook  of  her  tunic,  laid  the 
chaste  garment  on  a  willow,  and  plunged  into  the 
brook.  But  hardly  was  she  there  before  she  felt 
the  water  quivering  with  love  and  caressing  her  as 
though  it  had  a  soul.  At  first  Arethusa,  certain  of 
being  alone,  paid  little  heed  to  the  matter ;  but 
presently,  thinking  she  heard  a  noise,  she  ran  to  the 
bank  ;  unfortunately,  the  shv  nvmph  was  so  troubled 
in  mind  that,  instead  of  the  Ixmk  whereon  lay  her 
tunic,  she  mistook  the  way  and  landed  on  the  oppo- 
site shore.  She  was  scarcely  there  before  the  hand- 
some head  of  a  young  man  rose  in  the  midst  of  the 
current ;  he  shook  his  damp  curls,  and  said,  look- 
ing at  her  with  loving  eyes-.  "Where  goest  thou, 
Arethusa  ?  Beautiful  Arethusa,  where  goest  thou  ? "" 
Perhaps  any  other  nymph  would  have  paused  at 
that  sweet  look  and  that  soft  voice ;  but  Arethusa 
was  a  timorous  virgin,  who,  accompanying  Artemis 
in  the  davtime  only,  had  never  seen  the  prudish 
murderess  of  Actaeon  turn  human  at  night  for  the 
handsome  shepherd  of  the  Caraiae.  So,  instead  of 
stopping,  she  took  to  flight,  all  naked  and  dripping 
as  she  was.  On  his  side,  Alpheus,  that  was  the 
young  man's  name,  made  but  one  bound  from  his 
stream  to  the  shore  and  started  in  pursuit,  naked 
and  dripping  like  herself.  Thus  they  ran,  he  not 
catching  her,  past  Orchomene,  Psophis,  Monte  Cyl- 
Icna,  the  Krymanthus,  and  all  the  countries  adjacent 
to  Klis  ;  bounding  through  ploughed  lands,  forests, 


THE  SPERONARA  155 

over  rocks  and  mountains,  the  lover  not  gaining  one 
step  upon  the  nymph.  But  at  last,  when  evening 
came,  the  beauteous  fugitive  knew  but  too  well  that 
her  strength  was  failing  ;  soon  she  heard  the  steps 
of  the  god  coming  nearer;  then,  as  the  sun  went 
down,  she  saw  his  shadow  touching  hers,  she  felt  an 
ardent  breath  upon  her  shoulders.  She  knew  she 
could  run  no  longer,  she  must  be  caught ;  and  she 
cried  out  as  she  ran  :  "  To  me  !  to  me  !  divine  hunt- 
ress !  save  me  !  Remember  me  whom  thou  thought- 
est  worthy  to  bear  thy  bow  and  arrows  !  Artemis ! 
goddess  of  chastity,  have  pity  upon  me!"" 

As  she  said  the  words  she  saw  herself  wrapped  in 
a  cloud.  Alpheus,  in  the  act  of  catching  her,  lost 
her  from  sight.  But  instead  of  departing  discour- 
aged, he  obstinately  remained  where  he  was.  So 
when  the  cloud  dispersed  no  nymph  was  there,  only 
a  running  brook  ;  Arethusa  was  metamorphosed  into 
a  stream  ! 

Then  Alpheus  became  once  more  a  river,  a  river 
god,  and  changed  his  course  to  mingle  his  waters 
with  those  of  Arethusa.  But  Artemis,  protecting 
her  nymph,- opened  before  her  feet  a  subterranean 
way.  Arethusa  took  it,  her  streamlet  ran  beneath 
the  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  and  came  to  the 
surface  in  Ortygia.  Alpheus,  on  his  side,  when  he 
saw  the  trick,  plunged  in  not  far  from  the  Olym- 
peium,  still  pursuing  his  mistress,  and  coining  to  the 
surface  in  the  harbour  of  Siracusa,  not  two  hundred 
feet  away  from  her. 

Arethusa  always  maintained  that  she  did  not  meet 
the  god  on  her  submarine  journey  ;  but  in  spite  of 


156          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

the  protestations  of  the  poor  nymph  it  must  be 
owned  that  so  close  a  neighbourhood  seems  slightly 
compromising.  In  fact,  ever  since  those  days,  when- 
ever Arethusa's  chastity  is  mentioned  before  Poseidon 
and  Amphitrite,  that  august  couple  smile  as  if  they 
knew  more  than  they  choose  to  tell  about  the  passage 
of  the  river  and  the  streamlet  through  their  liquid 
kingdom.  However  that  may  be,  we  were  not  less 
eager  to  be  presented  to  her.  They  took  us  to  a 
dirty  washing-pool,  where  a  score  of  washerwomen, 
their  sleeves  rolled  up  to  their  armpits  and  their 
gowns  nearly  up  to  their  knees,  were  wringing  the 
shirts  of  the  Syracusans.  "  There,"  they  told  us, 
"is  the  fountain  of  Arethusa."  It  was  not  worth 
while  to  be  so  prudish  to  end  in  that  way. 

AVe  were  curious,  nevertheless,  to  taste  this  mirac- 
ulous water  ;  I  took  a  glass  and  plunged  it  in  the 
place  where  the  streamlet  filters  through  the  rock  ; 
to  the  eye  it  is  clear  and  limpid,  but  a  little  salt  to 
the  taste,  —  another  proof  against  the  poor  nymph, 
which  leads  us  to  think  that  she  may  not,  as  Auso- 
nius  says,  have  held  out  against  the  pure  kisses  of 
her  lover  :  incorruptantm  mixcentcs  oscuhi  aqiuimm. 

A  few  steps  from  Arethusa's  fountain  rose  the 
palace  of  Verrcs,  the  ruins  of  which  served  to  build 
a  Norman  fort  in  the  llth  century;  this  fort  stands 
on  the  spot  where  was  once  the  rock  of  Dionysius, 
raxed  by  Timoleon. 

Opposite,  and  on  the  other  side  of  the  opening  of 
the  Great  Harbour  rose  the  ancient  Pleinmyrion,  the 
fortress  built  by  Archimedes.  Four  animals  in  bronze, 
a  bull,  a  lion,  a  goat,  an  eagle,  adorned  the  four 


THE   SPERONARA  157 

corners,  each  turned  towards  one  of  the  cardinal 
points.  When  the  wind  blew  it  entered  the  jaws  or 
the  beak  of  the  animal  facing  it  and  made  it  utter 
the  cry  that  belonged  to  its  kind.  It  was  this  colic 
masterpiece  which,  it  is  said,  made  Rome  so  jealous 
of  Syracuse. 

We  re-crossed  the  whole  town  to  visit  Neapolis, 
but  there  we  were  obliged  to  leave  our  carriage,  the 
ancient  pavement  that  still  retains  the  ruts  of  the 
old  chariot-wheels  being  most  uncomfortable  for 
modern  vehicles. 

We  skirted  the  Marble,  or  Little,  Harbour,  having 
to  our  right  the  sea,  and  to  our  left  a  few  ruins.  It 
was  in  this  harbour,  the  most  precious  jewel  of  Sira- 
cusa,  that  the  fleet  of  the  Republic  lay.  Xenagoras 
built  there  the  first  galley  with  six  rows  of  oars,  and 
Archimedes  constructed  the  marvellous  vessel  that 
Ilicro  II.  sent  to  Ptolemy,  King  of  Egypt ;  which,  if 
we  believe  Athenseus,  had  twenty  rows  of  oars,  and 
contained  baths,  a  library,  a  temple,  gardens,  piscine, 
and  festal  hall. 

The  road  we  followed  took  us  straight  to  the  con- 
vent of  the  Capuchins.  After  a  walk  of  half  an 
hour  we  reached  the  abode  of  the  good  fathers  and 
were  ushered  in  by  two  monks  whom  we  had  met  on 
the  way,  talking  with  them  as  we  walked  along. 
The  convent  was  kept  with  an  admirable  cleanli- 
ness that  contrasted  with  the  frightful  filth  of  the 
town,  the  sight  of  which  had  pursued  us  since  our 
entrance  into  Sicily.  This  cleanliness  strengthened 
Jadin  in  a  scheme  he  had  thought  of  for  some  time; 
namely,  to  put  himself  to  board  in  a  convent  for  a 


158  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

week,  to  work  at  his  ease,  while  examining  the  in- 
terior life  of  a  monastery.  He  asked  the  good 
fathers,  through  the  Conte  di  Gargallo,  if  they 
would  be  willing  to  receive  him  for  eight  days  ;  they 
replied  that  they  would  do  so  with  great  pleasure, 
and  they  fixed  the  price  for  lodging  and  food  at 
forty  sous  a  day.  Jadin  was  in  ecstacy  at  such 
an  arrangement,  when  the  count  whispered  to  him  to 
await  the  dinner  hour  before  making  any  engage- 
ment. Jadin  asked  if  the  dinner  would  not  be  plen- 
tiful enough  to  fill  a  worldly  stomach.  The  count 
replied  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  Capuchins  were 
thought  to  have  splendid  repasts,  and  above  all,  very 
varied  ones,  but  that  there  might  lie  an  obstacle  in 
the  preliminary  preparations. 

At  the  moment  when  we  reached  the  gate  we  had 
found  it  surrounded  by  beggars.  It  was  the  hour  at 
which  the  Capuchins  daily  distributed  soup  to  the 
poor,  and  over  a  hundred  of  them,  men,  women, 
and  children,  awaited  this  moment  with  mouths  half 
open  and  burning  eyes,  like  hounds  awaiting  their 
quarry. 

I  have  not  yet  spoken  of  the  Sicilian  beggar,  the 
occasion  not  having  presented  itself;  and  yet  it  is 
impossible  to  pass  in  silence  a  class  of  persons  who 
form  at  least  one  tenth  of  the  population.  Whoso 
has  not  seen  the  Sicilian  beggar  knows  nothing  of 
poverty.  The  French  In-ggar  is  a  prince,  the  Roman 
Ix-ggar  a  great  seigneur,  the  Neapolitan  Ix'ggar  a 
worthy  bourgeois,  in  comparison  with  the  Sicilian 
bc-ggar.  The  pauper  of  Jacques  ('allot  with  his  mass 
of  rags,  the  Egyptian  fellah  in  his  simple  shirt  would 


THE  SPERONARA  159 

seem  men  of  property  at  Palermo  or  Siraciisa.  At 
Siracusa  and  Palermo  poverty  is  seen  in  all  its 
hideousness,  with  fleshless,  feeble  limbs,  and  caver- 
nous, feverish  eyes.  It  is  hunger,  with  its  cries  of 
suffering,  with  its  eternal  death-rattle  —  hunger,  that 
triples  the  years  on  the  faces  of  the  young  girls ; 
hunger,  that  makes  the  young  Sicilian  maiden,  at  an 
age  when  in  all  lands  all  women  are  beautiful,  with 
youth  at  least,  seem  falling  into  decrepitude;  hunger, 
more  cruel,  more  implacable,  more  deadly  than  de- 
bauchery, that  blasts  and  withers  like  debaucherv, 
without  affording  the  gross  and  sensual  comfort  of 
its  rival  in  destruction. 

All  the  persons  in  that  crowd  had  eaten  nothing 
since  the  day  before  ;  then  they  had  come  to  receive, 
as  they  did  to-day,  as  they  would  to-morrow,  their 
porringer  of  soup.  That  soup  was  all  their  nourish- 
ment for  twenty-four  hours,  unless  some  among  them 
might  obtain  a  few  farthings  from  the  compassion  of 
their  compatriots  or  the  pity  of  foreigners  —  but 
such  luck  is  almost  unheard-of;  the  Sicilians  are 
familiarized  with  poverty,  and  foreigners  are  few. 

When  the  distributor  of  that  blessed  soup  ap- 
peared, strange  howls  were  heard  and  each  be£<mr 

1  O  Ot^ 

rushed  towards  him  utensil  in  hand  ;  some  were  too 
weak  to  howl  and  rush,  and  these  dragged  themselves 
moaning  on  their  hands  and  knees. 

In  the  soup  were  scraps  of  the  meat  that  served  to 
make  it,  which  the  cook  had  cut  into  little  pieces  so 
that  the  greater  number  might  get  a  scrap.  Those 
to  whom  this  good  luck  fell  uttered  roars  of  jov,  and 
retired  to  a  corner  ready  to  defend  their  pri/e  if 


160  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

others,  less  well  treated  by  luck,  tried  to  take  it 
from  them. 

I  saw,  in  the  midst  of  all  this,  a  child  clothed,  not 
in  a  shirt,  but  in  a  species  of  spider's  web,  so  many 
were  its  holes ;  he  had  no  porringer  and  was  crving 
with  hunger.  He  held  out  his  poor  little  shrunken 
hands  joined  together  to  serve  as  best  they  could  for 
the  lacking  cup.  The  cook  poured  into  them  a 
spoonful  of  the  soup.  It  was  boiling,  and  it 
scalded  the  poor  child's  hands ;  he  gave  a  cry  of 
pain  and  opened  his  fingers  against  his  will ;  the 
broth  and  a  bit  of  meat  fell  upon  the  pavement, 
and  the  child,  throwing  himself  on  all-fours,  lapped 
it  up  like  a  dog. 

"  If  these  good  fathers  omitted  the  distribution  for 
a  time,""  I  said  to  the  count,  who  was  beside  me, 
"what  would  these  unfortunates  do  p"1" 

"  They  would  die,"  he  answered. 

We  left  two  piastres  with  one  of  the  brethren  to 
be  converted  into  farthings  for  distribution  to  the 
poor  wretches ;  then  we  fled. 

The  garden  of  the  Capuchins  extends  over  the  site 
of  the  ancient  Intomms  or  quarries.  It  was  from 
these  quarries  that  ancient  Siracusa,  its  walls,  tem- 
ples, and  palaces  issued.  We  went  down  by  steps  to 
a  depth  of  fifty  feet  or  more,  passing  under  a  huge 
bridge,  beyond  which  we  came  upon  a  modern  tomb. 
It  was  that  of  a  young  American  named  Nicholson, 
M!IO  was  killed  in  a  duel  at  Syracuse.  As  a  heretic, 
and  also  because  of  the  manner  of  his  death  the  doors 
of  all  the  churches  were  closed  against  him.  Not  less 
hospitable  to  the  dead  than  to  the  living,  the  good 


THE   SPERONARA  161 

Capuchins  took  the  body  and  gave  it  burial  in  their 
own  garden. 

These  gardens,  like  those  of  the  Benedictines  at 
Catania,  are  miracles  of  art  and  patience.  At  Cata- 
nia the  lava  had  to  be  covered  by  hand  ;  here,  the 
rock.  The  task  was  the  same  and  was  fulfilled  with 
wonderful  courage.  The  deepest  of  the  eleven  quar- 
ries, called  to-day  the  Latomia  del  Paradiso,  once  a 
labyrinth  of  stone  where  not  an  herb  could  grow,  has 
now  a  wealth  of  orange  and  lemon  trees  and  cactus. 
Its  gigantic  walls,  one  hundred  and  thirty  feet  down 
from  the  level  ground,  are  covered  with  espaliers  below 
and  draped  with  vines  above,  while  from  the  smallest 
crevices  aloes  expand  their  powerful  leaves  and  shoot 
up  their  centenary  bloom. 

It  was  in  these  latomias  that  the  seven  thousand 
Athenian  prisoners  were  confined  after  the  defeat  of 
Nicias.  They  were  so  crowded  in  these  horrible 
death-pits  that  an  epidemic  broke  out  among  them, 
and  the  Siracusans,  fearing  contagion,  sold  them  as 
slaves,  releasing  a  few  whom  they  heard  reciting  from 
memory  the  verses  of  Euripides.  Among  those  re- 
leased was  the  famous  philosopher  who,  on  hearing 
read  to  him  certain  verses  of  Dionvsius,  made  the  re- 
quest, now  become  proverbial :  "  Send  me  back  to 
the  quarries."  In  Sicily  no  tradition  is  ever  lost,  be 
it  3000  years  old;  that  quarry  is  still  called  the 
Latomia  of  Philoxenes. 

In  the  centre  of  each  quarry  (the  heavens  forming 
its  roof)  rises  a  species  of  column,  solitary,  rough- 
hewn,  capriciously  twisted.  At  the  top  of  these 
columns,  which  reached  to  the  level  of  the  plain,  were 

11 


162          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

stationed  sentinels  who  watched  the  prisoners  and 
passed  down  their  food  in  baskets  by  means  of  a 
rope. 

We  traversed  in  every  direction  this  strange  laby- 
rinth, with  its  ancient  aqueducts  that  still  bring 
water  as  in  the  days  of  Hiero  and  Dionvsius;  with 
its  cascades  of  verdure,  that  seem  to  fall  from  the 
very  tops  of  the  inclosing  walls,  their  rich  waves  un- 
dulating to  the  slightest  breeze;  with  its  old  illegible 
inscriptions,  that  travellers  strive  to  decipher  as  a 
homage  to  Euripides-Sauveur.  It  is  in  these  quarries 
that  we  find  the  famous  grotto  called  the  Ear  of 
Dionvsius,  hewn  in  the  rock,  which  possesses  to  this 
day  the  most  extraordinary  acoustic  qualities.  I 
don't  know  what  relationship  existed  between  King 
Dionvsius  and  King  Midas,  but  I  am  sorry  for  the 
former  to  say  that  the  grotto  that  bears  the  name  of 
his  aural  apparatus  bears  also  a  close  resemblance  to 
the  form  of  ears  that  the  King  of  Phrvgia  received 
from  Apollo's  munificence. 

Whoever  it  was  that  gave  to  this  grotto  hewn  in 
the  rock  (for  it  is  cut  and  polished  with  too  much 
care  into  its  strange  form  to  be  thought  a  work  of 
nature)  —  whoever  it  was,  I  say,  who  gave  a  form  and 
name  to  it,  the  fact  exists  that  it  has  the  faculty  of 
transmitting  the  slightest  sound  made  in  its  interior 
to  a  sort  of  little  cave  scooped  out  at  its  upper  end. 
This  secret  cave  is  supposed  to  have  been  the  resort 
of  Dionvsius  the  tyrant,  who  gave  himself  up  to  the 
study  of  acoustics  and  listened  there  for  the  com- 
plaints, threats,  and  projects  of  vengeance  uttered  by 
his  prisoners.  Unless  a  traveller  is  willing  to  incur  the 


THE   SPERONARA  163 

sovereign  contempt  of  his  guide,  I  advise  him  to  ex- 
press no  doubt  of  this  historic  truth. 

The  Ear  of  Dionysius  is  hollowed  in  the  rock  in 
the  form  of  the  letter  S  ;  it  is  two  hundred  and  ten 
feet  deep,  seventy-five  feet  in  height,  and  thirty-five 
feet  wide  at  its  opening,  contracting  to  fifteen  feet  as 
it  goes  up;  to  my  thinking  it  made  conspiracy  the 
easiest  thing  in  the  world  in  Syracuse.  Conspirators 
had  only  to  await  the  moment  when  the  tyrant  entered 
his  study  and  then  draw  up  the  ladder.  I  took,  I 
must  admit,  a  verv  poor  opinion  of  the  ancient  in- 
habitants of  Syracuse,  when  I  had  read  all  their 
authors  and  found  that  the  above  idea  had  never  once 
occurred  to  any  of  them. 

Our  guide  proposed  to  us  to  verify  for  ourselves  the 
truth  of  what  he  had  told  us  as  to  the  transmission 
of  sound.  At  the  first  words  he  said,  and  before  we 
had  replied  either  yes  or  no,  three  or  four  young  ras- 
cals, whose  business  it  evidently  was  to  watch  for 
strangers  adventuring  on  their  domain,  started  up  to 
prepare  the  means  of  ascension.  In  ten  minutes1  time 
two  of  them  lowered  a  rope  from  the  summit  of  the 
rock  ;  to  this  a  pulley  was  immediately  attached,  a 
seat  was  fastened  to  the  rope  and  one  of  the  two 
young  fellows  being  seated  in  it  was  drawn  up  by  the 
three  others,  to  familiari/e  us  by  example  with  this 
singular  method  of  locomotion. 

As  the  example,  attractive  as  it  was  meant  to  lx?, 
did  not  have  the  expected  power  of  attraction  upon 
us  (though  we  each  desired  that  the  experiment  should 
l)e  made  by  the  other),  we  drew  lots  as  to  w  ho  should 
have  the  honour  of  being  swung  up  to  the  Tyrant's 


164          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

aerial  cell.  Fate  favoured  Jadin  ;  he  made  a  grimace 
that  showed  he  did  not  appreciate  his  luck,  but 
nevertheless  he  bravely  took  his  seat  upon  the  perch. 
Scarcely  there,  and  as  if  our  guides  were  afraid  he 
might  reverse  his  decision,  he  rose  majestically  into 
the  air,  where  he  presently  began  to  turn  round  and 
round  like  a  ball  of  thread  when  we  try  to  unwind  it. 
Milord  emitted  a  howl  when  he  saw  his  master  taking 
a  route  he  could  not  follow  ;  and  as  for  me,  I  own  I 
watched  him  with  some  anxiety  until  I  saw  him  safely 
and  comfortably  lodged  in  his  pigeon-hole.  Then, 
reassured  by  Jadin  himself,  I  entered  the  quarry  to 
carry  out  the  experiment. 

The  grotto  descends  in  winding,  somewhat  in  the 
shape  of  an  ear,  to  a  depth  of  two  hundred  and  ten  feet 
or  thereabouts.  Iron  rings  attached  in  places  to  the 
stone  were  long  supposed  to  have  been  used  to  chain 
prisoners,  but  the  Abbe  Capodicci  proved  that  these 
rings  were  modern  and  probably  used  to  fasten  horses. 
This,  however,  did  not  prevent  our  guide,  who  was 
not  of  the  abbe's  opinion,  from  explaining  their  use  as 
instruments  of  torture.  I  did  not  wish  to  contradict 
him  for  such  a  trifle  as  that,  so  I  was  very  pitying 
over  the  fate  of  the  poor  wretches  so  uncomfortably 
riveted  to  the  wall. 

When  we  reached  the  extreme  lower  end  of  the 
grotto  the  guide  requested  me  to  say  something  in 
the  lowest  voice  I  could  use,  but  still  intelligibly,  so 
that  Jadin,  whose  ear  would  l>e  applied  to  the  precious 
little  hole  of  the  Tyrant,  would  hear  distinctly  what 
I  said.  On  which  I  requested  Jadin  in  a  whisper  to 
strike  a  match  and  light  his  cigar. 


THE   SPERONARA  165 

After  giving  him  time  to  conform  to  that  request, 
the  execution  of  which  would  he  a  proof  that  he  had 
heard  me,  I  tore  apart  a  sheet  of  paper ;  then  our 
guide,  keeping  his  own  experiment  for  the  last,  fired 
a  pistol,  the  noise  of  which,  by  the  same  acoustic 
effect,  was  to  seem  to  Jadin  like  the  roar  of  cannon. 
Then  we  ran  back  to  the  upper  extremity  of  the 
grotto,  and  there  was  Jadin  smoking  his  cigar,  hop- 
ping on  one  foot,  and  rubbing  his  ears.  He  had 
heard  my  words  and  the  tearing  of  the  paper  per- 
fectly. As  for  the  pistol-shot,  which  was  quite 
unexpected,  it  had  made  him  stone-deaf  in  the  right 
ear.  Our  guide  was  triumphant.  Jadin  descended 
in  the  same  way  by  which  he  had  gone  up,  without 
other  damage  than  his  deafness,  which  lasted  for  the 
rest  of  the  day. 

After  a  visit  to  the  so-called  tomb  of  Archimedes, 
we  took  our  way  towards  the  Greek  theatre,  driving 
before  us  myriads  of  lizards  of  all  colours,  the  sole 
modern  inhabitants  of  the  old  city  of  Neapolis.  The 
theatre,  one  of  the  most  interesting  relics  in  Syracuse 
was  built  by  the  Greeks,  —  at  what  period  remains 
unknown.  The  following  inscription  cut  into  a 
stone,  BA2IAI22AE  <HAI2TAO2,  set  savants  on  the 
scent,  and  made  them  decide,  with  their  usual  cer- 
tainty, that  it  dated  from  the  reign  of  Queen  Philistis. 
But,  having  reached  that  discovery,  the  learned  men 
found  themselves  balked,  history  making  no  mention 
of  the  said  queen,  and  chronology,  from  Archias  to 
I  Hero  II.,  ottering  not  the  slightest  chink  into  which 
could  l)e  inserted  a  feminine  reign.  So  the  two 
Greek  words  above  quoted  are  the  despair  of  Sicilian 


166  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

savants  ;  if  they  become  excited  on  any  subject,  you 
have  only  to  whisper  those  words  distinctly,  and 
down  go  their  ears,  they  sigh  profoundly,  take  their 
hats  and  depart.1 

However  this  may  be,  there  is  the  theatre ;  it 
exists ;  that  cannot  be  denied  ;  it  is  the  very  same 
where  Gelon  called  together  the  people  in  arms,  and 
went,  alone  and  unarmed,  to  render  an  account  of 
his  administration.  There,  Agathocles  assembled 
the  Siracusans  after  the  murder  of  the  chief  men  of 
the  city  ;  and  Timoleon,  old  and  blind,  came  there 
often,  so  says  Plutarch,  to  sustain,  by  the  counsels 
of  his  genius,  the  people  he  had  delivered  by  the 
strength  of  his  arm.  Nothing  can  be  more  pic- 
turesque than  this  wonderful  ruin ;  the  view  is  mag- 
nificent. Jadin  stopped  there  to  make  a  sketch ;  I 
helped  him  to  set  up  his  establishment  and  then  left 

1  The  names  of  Hiero  I.,  Philistis,  supposed  to  have  been  the 
wife  of  Hiero  II.,  and  Nereis,  the  wife  of  his  son  Gelon,  are  cut 
upon  their  seats  ;  and  history,  not  fable,  records  that  ./Eschylus 
sat  beside  the  first  Hiero  to  witness  the  performance  of  his 
"Persians."  Pindar  too  "came  cleaving  the  blue  Ionian 
seas  "  to  sit  there  in  turn  and  listen  to  his  Ode  in  honour  of 
Hiero 's  victory  in  the  Olympian  games,  —  ./Etna,  "pillar  of 
heaven,"  looking  from  afar  upon  the  scene.  Both  Hieros  were 
learned  men  ;  lovers  of  art  and  poesy,  but  men  of  vigour  too. 
The  reign  of  the  first  (47H-4fi7  n.  c.)  was  glorified  by  the  poets 
above-named,  also  by  Simonides,  Bacchylides,  and  others  ;  that 
of  the  second  Hiero  (^75—210  B.  c.)  could  boast  of  Archimedes 
and  Theocritus.  It  is  true  that  some  doubt  exists  as  to  whose 
wife  Queen  Philistis  really  was  ;  but  that  she  lived  then,  and 
still  lives,  in  bodily  shape,  we  know  by  one  of  the  most  exquisite 
Greek  coins  that  we  now  possess.  The  best  authority  on 
Sicily  in  compact  form  is  Murray's  guide-book,  written  by  Mr. 
George  Dennis,  —  now,  unfortunately,  out  of  print.  —  TH. 


THE  SPERONARA  167 

him,  to  continue  my  walk,  promising  to  stop  and 
pick  him  up  on  my  return. 

I  followed  the  road  from  Siracusa  to  Catania  which 
separates  Achradina  from  Tyche.  The  houses  were 
built  without  foundations,  stone  standing  on  rock, 
that  was  all  ;  I  could  still  follow  their  outlines, 
though  with  some  difficulty.  The  streets  were  much 
easier  to  recognize ;  the  nits  worn  by  the  chariot- 
wheels  served  as  conducting  lines,  and  directed  the 
eye  with  certainty.  Besides  the  ruined  houses  and 
the  rut-worn  streets,  the  ground  is  also  hollowed  by 
irregular  holes,  which  must  have  been  wells,  cisterns, 
piscine,  baths,  and  aqueducts. 

When  I  reached  the  Scala  Pupaglio,  instead  of 
turning  down  to  the  Portus  Trogilus  I  took  my  way 
up  to  the  Epipolne,  following  the  remains  of  the  old 
wall  which  Dionysius  the  elder  built  in  twenty 
days,  with  6000  yoke  of  oxen  and  60,000  men,  over 
a  distance  30  stadia  —  3i  miles. 

The  Epipolae,  as  its  name  indicates,  was  a  fortress 
at  the  summit  of  a  hill  overlooking  the  four  quarters 
of  Siracusa.  The  date  of  its  foundation  is  unknown  ; 
certain  it  is  that  it  existed  in  the  days  of  the 
Peloponnesian  wars.  The  Athenians,  led  by  Nicias, 
sei/ed  it  and  made  it  their  base  of  supplies,  though 
they  were  soon  driven  away  by  their  old  enemies  the 
Spartans,  who  had  now  crossed  the  seas  to  come  to 
the  help  of  the  Siracusans.  After  the  expulsion  of 
the  Tyrants  Dionysius  sei/ed  the  site,  added  to  the 
fortifications,  and  built  the  wall  in  a  curve  round 
Achradina  from  the  harbour  of  Trogilus  to  the 
Great  Harbour. 


168          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

I  stood  upon  the  summit  of  the  Epipolsr,  now 
enriched  by  a  telegraph,  which  at  the  moment  was 
resting  with  an  air  of  idleness  delightful  to  see,  in 
spite  of  the  multiplied  signals  of  its  telegraphic 
correspondent.  I  opened  the  door  gently  and  found 
the  officials  all  tranquilly  asleep,  which  accounted, 
no  doubt,  for  the  immobility  of  their  instrument. 
I  took  good  care  not  to  waken  them.1 

From  the  heights  of  the  Epipola?,  and  turning 
my  back  to  the  sea,  I  overlooked,  on  the  right,  the 
plain  where  Marcellus  camped,  and  on  the  left,  the 
whole  course  of  the  Anapus.  As  it  was  now  nearly 
midday,  —  the  sun  being  in  its  zenith,  and  literally 
bathing  me  in  a  heat  of  40  degrees,  reflected  from 
the  pavements  of  Tyche,  —  I  thought  it  was  time  to 
pick  up  Jadin  and  return  with  him  to  Syracuse.  To 
my  great  astonishment  on  reaching  the  theatre  I 
found  only  his  seat,  without  blocks  or  umbrella. 
I  was  beginning  to  fear  lest  he  might  have  been  the 
victim  of  some  murderous  assault  when  I  spied  him 
astride  of  the  largest  branch  of  a  splendid  Hg-tree 
which  gave  him  both  shade  and  food.  I  went  to 
him  and  remarked  that  the  miller  to  whom  the  tree 
belonged  might  think  the  liberty  he  was  taking 
rather  strange;  but  Jadin  answered  proudly  that 
he  was  on  his  own  property,  and  that  he  had  Ixnight 
for  the  sum  of  ten  farthings  the  right  to  eat  tigs  at 

1  It  is  not  pedantic  for  any  one  to  take  Thuoydicles,  in  the 
original  or  translated,  and,  sitting  on  the  Epipolae,  follow  with 
the  eye  his  narrative  of  the  great  sea  and  land  struggle  of  the 
Athenians  under  Nicias  and  the  Siracusans  ;  the  whole  scene 
lies  there  still,  —  the  scene  of  the  struggle  that  was  fatal  to 
Greece.  —  TR. 


THE   SPERONARA  169 

his  discretion,  and  even  to  fill  his  pockets  with  them. 
The  bargain  seemed  to  me  a  poor  one  for  the  miller, 
Jadin's  jacket  containing,  to  my  knowledge,  eleven 
pockets  of  varying  si/es. 

We  returned  to  the  city  at  top  speed,  soaked  as 
though  we  had  plunged  into  all  the  three  harbours 
of  Syracuse.  The  metamorphoses  of  Arethusa  and 
Cyane  into  fountains  were  explained  to  me ;  one 
hour  more  of  that  delicious  sun  and  I,  too,  should 
have  passed  into  a  fluid  condition. 

The  Conte  di  Gargallo  had  remained  behind  to 
organize  an  excursion  by  boat  on  the  Anapus.  At 
first  I  offered,  with  all  the  pride  and  ostentation  of 
a  proprietor,  to  provide  the  boat  of  the  speronara 
and  two  sailors  ;  but  the  boatmen  of  Syracuse,  like 
the  Swiss  guides,  have  privileges  that  all  travellers 
must  respect.  We  found  on  our  return  that  the 
count,  foreseeing,  from  the  great  heat,  that  we  should 
l>e  little  inclined  to  start  at  once,  had  ordered  the 
boat  to  be  in  readiness  at  three  o'clock ;  which  left 
us  half  an  hour  for  a  bath,  and  an  hour  and  a  half 
for  a  siesta;  so  when  the  boatmen  came  to  tell  us 
all  was  ready,  we  were  fresh  and  lively  as  if  we  had 
not  quitted  our  beds  since  the  evening  before. 

We  embarked  in  the  Great  Harbour.  That  was 
the  scene  of  the  famous  naval  battle  between  the 
Athenians  and  Siracusans  in  which  the  Athenians 
had  twenty  vessels  burned  and  sixty  sunk.  Ten  or 
twelve  little  boats  of  the  size  of  the  one  we  were  in 
now  compose  the  whole  navy  of  Syracuse. 

Our  first  visit  was  to  the  river  Alphcus  ;  honour 
to  whom  honour  is  due.  The  river  Alpheus,  as  I 


170          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

have  already  said,  disappeared  at  Olympeium  and 
reappeared  in  the  Great  Harbour  not  two  hundred 
feet  from  the  fountain  of  Arcthusa;  the  boiling  of 
its  waters  is  still  visible  on  the  surface  of  the  sea, 
and  it  is  said  that  if  you  dip  a  bottle  to  a  certain 
depth  it  will  fill  with  fresh  water  which  is  perfectly 
good  to  drink.  Unfortunately  we  could  not  verify 
the  fact ;  an  empty  bottle  lacking  for  the  experiment. 
We  next  struck  across  the  harbour  in  a  straight 
line  to  the  mouth  of  the  Anapus,  another  river  which 
is  not  without  a  certain  mythological  distinction, 
though  it  is  better  known  through  the  rivulet  Cyane, 
which  it  married,  than  for  itself.  In  fact,  the  rivulet 
Cyane,  which  joins  Anapus  about  a  mile  from  its 
mouth,  is  all  that  there  is  of  most  distinguished  in 
the  aristocracy  of  nymphs,  naiads,  and  hamadryads. 
It  is  not  known  exactly  Avho  were  her  father  and 
mother,  but  it  is  an  undoubted  fact  that  she  was 
cousin  to  that  other  Cyane,  daughter  of  the  river 
Meander,  who  was  changed  to  a  rock  because  she 
would  not  listen  to  a  beautiful  young  man  who  loved 
her  passionately  and  killed  himself  in  her  presence 
without  his  death  causing  her  the  slightest  emotion. 
Ix't  me  hasten  to  say  that  her  cousin  was  not  of  so 
hard  a  nature  ;  so  she  was  changed  into  a  fountain, 
which  was  formerly  the  metamorphosis  used  for  all 
sensitive  souls.  Here  is  how  that  memorable  change 
occurred;  I  will  not  give  it  in  mv  own  language,  but 
in  that  of  Monsieur  Renouard,  the  translator  of 
Ovid's  Metamorphoses.  This  passage,  written  in 
K)°.H,  will  give  an  idea  of  the  manner  in  which 
antiquity  was  understood  in  the  reign  of  Louis  XIII., 


THE   SPERONARA  171 

surnamcd  the  Just  —  not,  as  might  be  supposed, 
because  he  put  to  death  Marsillac,  Bouteville,  Cinq- 
Mars,  de  Thou,  and  de  Montmorency,  but  merely 
because  he  was  born  under  the  sign  of  the  Scales. 

Pluto  has  just  abducted  Persephone  and  is  bearing 
her  in  his  chariot,  he  does  not  well  know  where ;  at 
last  he  arrives  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Ortvgia. 
Now  for  the  translator : 

"Here  lived  Cyanc,  the  most  renowned  nymph 
that  was  then  in  Sicily,  who  has  left  in  that  land 
her  name  to  waters  that  still  bear  it.  She  rose  above 
the  water-line  to  her  stomach,  and  recognizing  Per- 
sephone, came  forward  to  help  her.  '  You  shall  not 
go  farther,'  she  said  to  Pluto.  *  Why  do  you  seek  to  be 
the  son-in-law  of  Demcter  by  force  ?  Her  daughter 
deserves  to  be  won  by  gentle  speeches,  and  not  ab- 
ducted. To  win  her,  you  should  entreat  her  and  not 
force  her.  As  for  me,  I  tell  you  truly —  if  I  may 
put  mv  lowness  in  comparison  with  her  grandeur  — 
that  I  once  was  loved  by  the  river  Anapus,  but  he 
did  not  have  me  in  the  marriage  way.  He  sought 
my  friendship  long,  and  did  not  enjoy  my  body  until 
he  had  first  acquired  my  will/  Making  these  re- 
monstrances Cyane  stretched  her  arms  to  right  and 
left  as  far  as  she  could,  to  prevent  the  chariot  from 
passing  on  ;  then  Pluto,  irritated,  struck  his  trident, 
sceptre  of  his  empire,  with  such  force  upon  the  ground 
that  the  earth  split  and  made  an  opening  for  his 
dreadful  horses,  down  which  they  went  incontinently 
to  the  gloomy  Palace  of  Shades  with  the  prey  they 
drew.  Cyane's  heart  was  so  broken,  both  because 
she  saw  Persephone  abducted  and  because  she  was 


172          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

so  contemptuously  treated  herself,  that  she  conceived 
a  mourning  in  her  heart  which  could  not  be  consoled. 
Feeding  with  tears  her  secret  woe,  she  consumed  her 
body  until  it  melted  away  and  turned  into  the  very 
stream  of  which  she  had  been  the  tutelary  goddess. 
Little  by  little,  her  limbs  were  seen  to  soften,  her 
bones  lost  their  hardness  and  became  pliable  ;  so  did 
her  nails,  all  the  weaker  limbs,  also  the  hair,  the 
fingers,  the  feet,  the  thighs  became,  first  liquid  — 
for  a  body  the  less  heavy  it  is  the  more  quickly  it 
changes  to  water  —  then  the  shoulders,  loins,  sides, 
and  stomach  flowed  in  streams ;  till  at  last  the  cor- 
rupted veins  were  full  of  water  in  place  of  blood,  and 
of  all  her  body  nothing  was  left  that  could  be 
held  by  the  hand.11 

This  translation  had  the  greatest  success  at  the 
Hotel  de  Rambouillet.  Mademoiselle  de  Scudery 
thought  the  passage  I  have  quoted  a  masterly 
thing;  Chapelain  delighted  in  it ;  and  Mademoiselle 
Paulet  turned  herself  into  a  fountain  every  time  the 
passage  was  read  before  her. 

The  marriage  of  Anapus  and  Cyane  was  happy,  if 
we  may  believe  appearances,  for  the  banks  of  the  bed 
where  they  flow  together  are  ravishing  ;  true  walls  of 
verdure,  bending  over  to  each  other  to  form  an  arch 
both  cool  and  shady.  Here  grows  the  papyrus,  a 
gift  from  Ptolemy  Philadelphia  to  Hiero  II.,  a  plant 
that  has  now  died  out  of  its  native  Egypt  but  still 
flourishes  on  the  banks  where  King  Hiero  placed  it. 
From  time  to  time  we  came  to  vistas  that  seemed  as 
if  cut  bv  art,  but  were  really  mere  accidents  of  nature, 
allowing  us  to  see  upon  the  left  bank  the  ruins  of 


THE   SPERONARA  173 

the  Epipolae  and  on  the  right  those  of  the  Olym- 
peiinn,  the  famous  temple  of  Zeus,  built  by  Gelon ; 
the  sole  remains  of  which  is  a  pair  of  columns.  It 
was  in  this  temple  that  the  statue  of  the  god  stood 
covered  with  a  golden  mantle  which  Dionysius  the 
elder  appropriated  on  the  ground  that  the  garment 
was  "too  heavy  for  summer  and  too  cold  for  winter."" 
Vcrres,  amateur  of  art,  admired  the  statue  the  more 
for  the  absence  of  the  golden  cloak,  and  sent  it  to 
Home.  It  was  one  of  the  three  most  beautiful 
statues  of  antiquity,  the  two  others  being,  as  is  well 
known,  the  Venus  Callipyge  and  the  Apollo. 

Nearly  opposite  to  these  columns  we  passed  be- 
neath a  bridge  of  a  single  arch  over  the  Anapus ; 
and  a  few  yards  farther  on  we  came  to  the  junction 
of  the  river  and  the  brook.  Then,  in  a  spirit  of 
gallantry  we  left  the  river  to  our  right  and  con- 
tinued our  way  upon  the  brook  Cyane. 

Nothing  more  charming  than  the  twists  and  turns 
of  the  graceful  stream  between  its  banks  of  waving 
papyrus,  that  king  of  reeds  !  Sometimes  we  came 
to  delicious  little  pools,  so  clear  that  we  saw  their 
bottom  ;  sometimes  to  rapid  currents,  complaining, 
as  if  the  voice  of  the  nymph  herself  were  telling  Ovid 
of  her  sad  metamorphosis;  or  again,  to  tiny  islands 
the  home  of  aquatic  birds,  who  flew  away  at  our  ap- 
proach or  plunged  among  the  reeds,  where  we  could 
follow  their  flight  by  the  movement  they  gave  to 
that  forest  of  flexible  stems.  Thus  we  went  on  for 
nearly  an  hour  till  we  came  to  the  fountain  of 
Cyane,  a  clear  translucent  pool  one  hundred  feet  in 
circumference.  Here  it  was  that  Pluto  struck  the 


174          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

earth  with  his  trident  and  disappeared  into  Hell. 
So  it  is  said  that  this  pool  is  an  abyss  without  a  bot- 
tom. The  people  of  the  region  call  it  Lapisma.  It 
was  around  this  spring  that  the  Siracusans  held 
yearly  festivals  in  honour  of  Persephone,  sacrificing 
a  black  bull  to  her  manes;  and  as  I  stood  up  in  the 
boat  to  drag  from  its  depths  a  root  of  Ptolemy's 
papyrus  (which  afterwards  flourished  for  years  in  my 
garden)  a  black  bull  pushed  his  head  through  the 
feathery  branches  and  nodded,  as  if  to  say,  "  Times 
are  better  now."" 

On  our  way  back,  Count  Gargallo  ordered  the  boat- 
men to  stop  a  moment  in  a  delicious  retreat  shaded 
on  all  sides  by  huge  tufts  of  papyrus,  their  fringed 
heads  waving  softly  to  the  slightest  bree/.e.  It  is 
here,  tradition  says,  that  the  scene  of  the  sisters 
Callipyge  took  place. 

The  sisters  Callipyge  were,  as  everybody  knows, 
Siracusans.  They  were  not  only  the  two  richest 
heiresses  of  the  city,  but  they  were  also  the  handsom- 
est women  that  could  be  seen  from  Megara  to  Cape 
Pachinum.  Among  the  gifts  that  liberal  Nature  had 
been  pleased  to  bestow  upon  them  was  that  richness 
of  shape  from  which  their  name  is  derived.  One  day, 
as  the  sisters  were  bathing  together  at  the  place 
where  we  now  were,  they  began  to  dispute  as  to 
which  of  the  two  was  the  handsomer.  The  case  was 
hard  to  decide  by  the  interested  parties  themselves; 
so  they  called  to  a  shepherd  who  was  feeding  his 
flock  on  the  shore.  The  shepherd  did  not  need  a 
second  call  ;  he  ran  up  at  once,  and  the  sisters,  issu- 
ing from  the  water  in  their  dazzling  nudity,  told  him 


THE   SPERONARA  175 

to  judge  the  question.  The  second  Paris  gazed  for 
a  long  time  undecided,  turning  his  ardent  eyes  from 
one  to  the  other  ;  finally,  he  decided  for  the  eldest. 
Delighted  with  his  judgment,  the  fair  nvmph  offered 
him  her  hand  and  heart,  which  the  swain,  as  will 
readily  be  believed,  accepted  gratefully.  As  for 
the  younger,  she  made  the  same  offer  to  the  brother 
of  the  judge,  who  happened  to  come  by  at  the  mo- 
ment the  judgment  was  given  and  declared  it  to  IKJ 
false.  The  four  young  people  then  built  a  temple 
to  Beauty,  and  as  each  pair  continued  to  hold  their 
own  opinion,  the  rivals  decided  to  appeal  to  poster- 
ity ;  they  caused  the  two  best  sculptors  of  the  time 
to  make  the  two  Aphrodites  that  still  bear  their 
name  ;  one  is  in  Naples,  the  other  in  Syracuse.  Two 
thousand  three  hundred  years  have  elapsed  since  that 
period,  and  posterity,  undecided,  has  not  yet  given 
its  judgment.  Adhuc  sub  judice  Us  est,  says  Horace. 
Happy  days,  when  shepherds  espoused  princesses! 
And  such  princesses  !  Ah  ! 


VII 

DEATH   IN   LIFE.     A   LIVING  TOMB 

MY  guide  to  the  Epipolae  had  pointed  out  to 
me,  close  to  the  river  Anapus,  a  little 
Gothic  chapel  which  he  asked  me  to  visit,  inasmuch 
as  it  had  been  the  scene,  about  forty  years  earlier,  of 
a  terrible  history  which  still  occupies  the  minds  of 
the  people  of  the  neighbourhood.  I  replied  that  I 
saw  the  chapel  perfectly  from  the  spot  where  we 
then  were  (the  height  of  the  Epipola?)  and  as  the 
day  was  intensely  hot  I  would  content  myself  with 
hearing  its  history,  which  I  asked  him  to  relate. 
He  said  it  was  rather  long,  but  eminently  interesting, 
and  he  proved  his  words  by  telling  me  in  substance 
the  following  facts  : 

The  chapel  belonged  to  the  San  Floridio  family, 
one  of  the  oldest  and  most  distinguished  in  Sicily. 
Built  by  an  ancestor  of  the  present  marquis,  it  was 
chiefly  used  as  the  family  sepulchre.  An  old  tradi- 
tion had  long  been  handed  down  respecting  this 
chapel,  which  contained,  it  was  said,  not  only  the 
mortuary  vaults,  but  also  certain  subterranean  cel- 
lars, in  which  a  Marchese  di  San  Floridio  had  taken 
refuge  during  the  Spanish  invasion,  and  where,  tra- 
dition added,  he  remained  for  ten  years,  regularly 
fed  by  his  old  servants,  who,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives, 


THE   SPERONARA  177 

carried  food  and  drink  to  him  on  stated  days.  A 
score  of  time's  lie  might  have  escaped,  but  he  could 
never  bring  himself  to  quit  Sicily,  hoping  always 
that  the  hour  of  her  freedom  would  strike,  and 
thinking  that  he  then  ought  to  be  on  the  spot  at 
the  first  signal. 

In  1785  there  were  two  male  scions  of  the  family  : 
the  Marquis  and  the  Count  di  San  Floridio.  The 
marquis  lived  in  Messina,  the  count  in  Syracuse. 
The  marquis  was  a  widower  without  children,  and 
lived  alone  with  only  two  servants,  a  young  girl 
about  eighteen  or  twenty  years  of  age,  named  Teresa, 
the  foster-sister  of  a  daughter  he  had  lost,  and  a  man 
of  over  thirty  by  name  Gaetano  Cantarello,  the  last 
descendant  of  the  faithful  servants  who  had  served 
their  master  in  his  subterranean  abode,  the  secret  of 
which  was  handed  down  in  the  Floridio  family  from 
father  to  son. 

I  have  already  given,  apropos  of  Messina,  an  ac- 
count of  the  earthquake  of  1795.  The  Marchese  di 
San  Floridio  was  one  of  the  victims  of  that  sad  event. 
His  two  servants,  Teresa  and  Gaetano,  escaped; 
although  Gaetano  risked  his  life,  it  was  said,  by 
remaining  an  hour  in  the  ruins  of  the  house  endeav- 
ouring to  rescue  his  master.  The  Count  di  San 
Floridio,  living  in  Syracuse,  came  into  possession  of 
his  brother's  wealth,  which  was  immense,  and  the 
title  of  marquis. 

Ten  yeai"*  had  gone  by  since  that  event,  and  the 
Marchese  di  San  Floridio,  who  had  rebuilt  his  broth- 
er's wrecked  palace,  passed  his  summers  in  Messina 
and  his  winters  in  Sracuse.  But  he  never  failed  to 


178          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

have  mass  said  for  the  soul  of  his  deceased  brother 
in  the  mortuary  chapel  of  the  family  on  the  day  and 
hour  of  his  death,  which  was  nine  in  the  evening. 

The  tenth  anniversary,  in  1805,  was  about  to  be 
celebrated  in  the  customary  pomp,  and  with  the 
addition  of  a  new  personage  who  plays  a  chief  part 
in  this  history.  I  mean  the  young  count,  Don 
Ferdinando  di  San  Floridio,  who,  having  reached  his 
eighteenth  year,  had  just  returned  from  the  college 
of  Palermo  after  finishing  his  studies. 

Don  Ferdinando  (now  the  present  marquis)  knew 
well  that  he  bore  one  of  the  noblest  names  and  would 
inherit  one  of  the  largest  fortunes  in  Sicily.  His 
instincts  were  those  of  a  true  gentleman.  He  was 
a  handsome  youth,  with  hair  black  as  ebony,  black 
eyes,  a  Grecian  nose,  and  teeth  of  enamel,  carrying 
one  hand  on  his  hip,  his  hat  a  little  tipped  to  one 
side,  and  apt  to  jest,  after  the  fashion  of  the  period, 
at  sacred  things ;  in  other  respects,  an  excellent 
horseman,  strong  on  fencing,  and  swimming  like  a 
fish,  —  things  that  are  all  learned  in  tlie  college  of 
nobles.  It  was  said,  moreover,  that  to  these  classic 
studies  the  beautiful  ladies  of  Palermo  had  added 
others  for  which  Ferdinando  showed  no  less  taste 
than  he  did  for  those  in  which  he  was  proficient, 
although  these  feminine  lessons  were  not  on  the 
college  curriculum.  At  any  rate  the  count  was  now 
returning  to  Syracuse,  young,  handsome,  brave,  and 
just  at  the  age  when  every  man  thinks  himself 
destined  to  become  the  hero  of  some  adventure. 

This  was  how  matters  were  when  the  anniversary 
of  the  death  of  the  marquis  arrived.  The  father 


THE   SPERONARA  179 

and  mother  of  the  young  count  informed  him  that 
lie  would  have  to  take  part  in  the  mortuary  service. 
Don  Ferdinando,  who  did  not  haunt  churches  and 
was,  in  fact,  decidedly  Voltairean,  would  have  liked 
to  avoid  this  nuisance,  but  he  felt  that  he  could  not 
decently  hold  back  from  a  family  duty,  and  that 
any  reluctance  towards  an  uncle  from  whom  he 
inherited  an  income  of  a  hundred  thousand  francs 
would  be  more  than  improper.  So  he  yielded  with 
fairly  good  grace  under  the  circumstances,  and  hav- 
ing put  his  father  and  mother  into  their  litter  he 
jumped  as  gaily  into  his  own  as  if  he  were  merely 
going  to  figure  in  a  quadrille. 

A  word  here,  in  passing,  on  this  charming  Sicilian 
mode  of  travelling.  The  litter  is  a  large  chaise  a 
portenrs,  constructed  generally  for  two  persons,  who, 
instead  of  being  seated  side  by  side,  as  in  our  modern 
coupes,  sit  facing  each  other  as  in  the  old-fashioned 
vis-a-vis.  This  litter  is  placed  between  two  shafts 
or  poles  which  are  fixed  to  the  backs  of  two  mules. 
A  servant  leads  one  mule  and  the  other  is  compelled 
to  follow.  It  results  that  the  motion  of  the  litter, 
especially  in  so  rough  and  broken  a  land  as  Sicily, 
resembles  the  pitching  of  a  ship  and  causes  the  same 
sea-sickness.  Consequently,  the  traveller  usually 
holds  in  execration  the  person  with  whom  he  travels 
in  this  way.  After  an  hour  of  such  locomotion 
he  squabbles  with  his  best  friend,  and  by  the 
end  of  the  first  day  they  have  quarrelled  for  life. 
Damon  and  Pythias,  those  classic  models  of  friend- 
ship, had  they  travelled  from  Catania  in  a  litter, 
would  have  fought  a  duel  on  arriving  at  Syracuse 


180          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

and  killed  each  other  fraternally  no  less  than  did 
Eteocles  and  Polynices. 

On  arriving  at  the  chapel  the  young  count  found, 
contrary  to  his  expectation,  absolutely  no  one  present 
except  the  priest,  the  sacristan,  and  the  choir-boys. 
He  cast  a  rather  sulky  look  about  him,  took  two  or 
three  turns  around  the  little  church,  and  ended,  find- 
ing the  pavement  too  hard  for  his  knees,  by  sitting 
down  in  the  confessional,  where,  being  prepared  for 
slumber  by  the  motion  of  the  litter,  he  was  soon 
fast  asleep.  He  slept  the  sleep  of  eighteen  ;  neither 
fugue,  nor  organ,  nor  De  Profundis  woke  him. 

The  service  over,  his  mother  looked  for  him  on  all 
sides,  and  even  called  to  him  in  a  low  voice ;  but  the 
marquis,  still  sore  and  sour  from  his  journey  in  the 
litter,  told  his  wife  that  her  son  was  a  libertine,  whom 
she  spoiled  by  excessive  maternal  weakness,  and  that 
a  church  was  certainly  not  the  place  in  which  to 
find  him.  So  the  marquise,  accustomed  to  obey,  got 
passively  into  the  conjugal  litter  which  started  for 
home,  followed  by  the  empty  machine,  leaving  the 
youth,  by  his  father's  orders,  to  get  home  as  he 
could. 

Meantime  Ferdinando  was  sleeping,  safe  and  sound, 
in  his  confessional,  dreaming,  perhaps,  that  Princess 
M  .  .  .  the  prettiest  woman  in  Palermo,  was  giving 
him  a  swimming  lesson  in  the  basin  of  La  Favorite, 
and  snoring  joyously  to  that  sweet  illusion. 

At  two  in  the  morning  he  woke,  stretched  his  arms, 
yawned,  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  thinking  he  was  in 
bed,  turned  over  and  struck  his  head  sharply  against 
the  corner  of  the  confessional.  The  shock  was  so 


THE   SPERONARA  181 

rough  that  the  young  count  opened  his  eyes  wide  and 
woke  up  thoroughly.  At  first  he  looked  about  him 
in  amazement,  having  no  idea  of  where  he  was  ;  little 
by  little  remembrance  came  to  him,  he  recalled  the 
circumstances  of  the  night  before  and  guessed  the 
rest ;  evidently  his  father  and  mother,  not  seeing 
him  with  them,  had  returned  to  Syracuse,  little 
thinking  that  they  left  him  behind  them  in  the 
chapel.  He  went  to  the  door  and  found  it  locked  ; 
then  he  took  out  his  watch,  a  repeater,  and  finding 
it  half-past  two  in  the  morning,  he  reflected,  very 
judiciously,  that  the  gates  of  Syracuse  would  be  closed, 
everybody  asleep  in  his  father's  country-house,  the 
Belvedere,  and  that,  on  the  whole,  though  a  confes- 
sional might  not  be  as  comfortable  as  his  own  bed, 
it  was  better  than  sleeping  out  under  the  stars.  He 
returned  therefore  to  his  improvised  alcove,  shut  his 
eyes,  and  endeavoured  to  resume  the  good  sleep  lately 
interrupted. 

He  was  dropping,  little  by  little,  into  that  interior 
twilight  that  is  neither  the  day  nor  vet  the  night  of 
thought,  when  his  hearing  —  the  sense  that  is  the 
last  to  goto  sleep  —  transmitted  to  him  vaguely  the 
sound  of  an  opening  door,  which,  as  it  opened,  creaked 
on  its  hinges.  The  count  sat  up  instantly,  cast  his 
eyes  around  the  church,  and  saw,  by  the  light  of  a 
lantern  carried  in  his  hand,  a  man  bending  down 
before  the  altar  of  the  side  chapel  that  was  nearest 
to  the  confessional.  Almost  immediately,  the  man 
rose,  wrapped  the  mantle,  half  Italian,  half  Spanish, 
which  the  Sicilians  call  fiferrajiulo,  about  him,  blew 
out  the  lantern,  and  went  softly  down  the  whole 


182          JOURNEYS   WlfH   DUMAS 

length  of  the  little  church,  passing  so  close  to  the 
count  that  Ferdinando  could  have  touched  him  with 
his  hand,  opened  the  door,  disappeared,  and  relocked 
it  behind  him. 

Ferdinando  remained  mute  and  motionless  in  his 
place,  partly  from  fear,  partly  from  surprise.  Our 
young  count  was  not  one  of  those  iron  souls  that 
we  read  of  in  novels,  one  of  those  heroes  who,  like 
Nelson,  ask  at  fifteen  what  fear  is.  No,  he  was 
merely  a  brave,  adventurous  voung  fellow,  super- 
stitious as  men  are  in  Sicily ;  therefore,  though  at 
first  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  sword  to  do  battle  with 
the  apparition  whatever  it  was,  he  was  not  sorry 
when  it  passed  him  evidently  without  seeing  him. 
At  first,  he  fancied  he  had  to  do  with  some  dis- 
embodied being,  perhaps  an  ancestor  of  his  own, 
displeased  at  the  partiality  that  gave  an  annual  mass 
to  the  late  marquis,  and  now  issuing  softly  from  his 
tomb  to  ask  him  for  the  same  favour.  But  when  the 
mysterious  being  raised  the  lantern  to  blow  it  out 
the  gleam  falling  upon  his  face  and  figure  showed 
the  count  a  tall  man  forty  to  forty-five  years  of 
age,  to  whom  a  black  beard  and  moustache  and  some 
inward  preoccupation  gave  a  stern  and  gloomy  ex- 
pression of  countenance.  lie  then  knew  that  he  had 
to  do  with  a  being  of  the  same  species  though  not  of 
the  same  rank  as  his  own. 

Naturally,  there  was  no  further  question  of  sleep 
for  the  young  man  ;  lost  in  a  world  of  conjectures  he 
passed  the  rest  of  the  night  with  eye  and  ear  on  the 
watch,  trying  to  find  some  solid  base  for  the  various 
edifices  built  up  by  his  imagination.  It  was  then 


THE   SPERONARA  183 

that  he  recalled  the  family  tradition  of  a  subterranean 
retreat  in  which  a  former  Marchese  di  San  Floridio, 
proscribed  by  the  Spanish  authorities  and  con- 
demned to  death,  lived  hidden  for  ten  years ;  but  he 
knew  that  his  late  uncle,  the  head  of  the  family,  had 
died  without  bequeathing  the  secret  of  this  cavern 
to  any  one.  Nevertheless,  this  recollection,  incom- 
plete and  incoherent  as  it  was,  cast  a  ray  of  light 
into  the  darkness  around  the  subject  ;  the  count 
bethought  him  that  the  secret  which  the  present 
family  believed  had  been  buried  in  a  grave  might 
have  been  discovered  accidentally  by  unknown  persons. 
The  first  result  of  this  new  idea  was  to  make  him 
think  of  brigands,  who  possibly  had  made  it  their 
resort ;  but  presently  he  reflected  that  for  quite  a  long 
time  there  had  been  no  talk  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
any  considerable  robberies,  or  of  any  important 
murder. 

While  the  young  count  was  making  and  unmaking 
a  thousand  conjectures,  time  went  on  and  the  first 
rays  of  the  dawn  began  to  appear ;  it  then  occurred 
to  him  that  if  he  wished  to  fathom,  later,  this  singu- 
lar adventure  he  had  better  not  let  himself  be  seen 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  chapel.  He  therefore 
clambered  by  the  help  of  a  few  chairs  to  a  window, 
opened  it,  let  himself  slip  down  outside,  dropped  with- 
out accident  eight  or  ten  feet,  and  reached  Syracuse 
just  as  the  doors  were  beginning  to  open.  By  means 
of  a  few  piastres,  he  made  the  porter  promise  to  tell 
the  marquis  and  his  mother  that  he  returned  the 
preceding  night  half  an  hour  after  they  did. 

Thanks  to  this  precaution,  matters  turned  out  as 


184  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

he  wished ;  and  when  he  appeared  at  breakfast  the 
marquis  was  so  easily  satisfied  by  his  excuses  that  he 
saw  he  might  proceed  at  once  to  carry  out  a  plan  lie 
had  resolved  upon.  Emboldened  by  his  father's  in- 
dulgence he  spoke  with  apparent  indifference  of  going 
to  shoot  in  the  Pantanelli.  The  marquis  made  no 
objection,  and  after  breakfast  the  count,  armed  with 
his  gun,  followed  by  his  dog,  and  furnished  with  the 
key  of  the  chapel,  started  forth,  promising  his  mother 
to  bring  her  a  dish  of  snipe  for  her  dinner.  He 
crossed  the  Pantanelli  marshes  to  salve  his  conscience 
and  muddy  his  gaiters  and  his  dog,  aimed  at  two  or 
three  snipe,  which  he  missed,  and  reaching  the  chapel, 
went  straight  to  the  door,  opened  it,  and  locked  it 
behind  him  without  being  seen.  No  wonder  in  that, 
for  it  was  one  hour  after  midday,  and  at  one  hour 
after  midday  no  one  in  Sicily,  unless  he  has  been 
changed  into  a  lizard,  as  Stellio  was  by  Ceres,  ever 
roams  the  fields. 

He  began  by  going  straight  to  the  confessional ; 
from  there  he  turned  his  eyes  to  the  altar  before 
which  he  had  seen  the  man  in  the  cloak  stooping 
down.  Then  he  went  to  the  altar  and  sought  on  all 
sides  for  some  opening;  he  found  none.  But  on  the 
right  of  the  tabernacle  his  dog  smelt  the  wall  obsti- 
nately as  if  he  had  found  a  scent,  and  looked  at  his 
master  with  low  and  prolonged  growls.  Don  Fer- 
dinando,  who  knew  the  instinct  of  the  faithful  ani- 
mal, felt  certain  that  the  mysterious  man  had  passed 
through  that  portion  of  the  wall;  but  in  vain  did  he 
search,  lie  could  find  no  traces  of  an  opening  ;  and 
after  an  hour  of  useless  effort  he  left  the  chapel, 


THE   SPERONARA  185 

hopeless  of  discovering  by  ordinary  means  the  secret 
it  evidently  inclosed. 

In  returning,  he  again  passed  through  the  marshes 
and,  being  a  good  shot  and  less  distracted  in  mind 
than  earlier  in  the  day,  he  soon  had  an  honourable 
bagful  of  snipe,  teal,  and  rail,  —  trophies  which  he 
deposited  at  the  feet  of  his  mother,  declaring  that  he 
had  had  such  good  sport  he  meant,  with  his  father's 
permission,  to  go  and  spend  some  days  at  Belvedere, 
and  give  himself  up  to  the  pleasures  of  the  chase. 
The  marquis,  who  was  very  accommodating  whenever 
he  was  not  about  to  go,  or  was  going,  or  had  gone  in 
a  litter,  replied  that  he  saw  no  objection  ;  the  mar- 
quise endeavoured  to  make  observations  against  that 
amusement ;  but  the  marquis  answered  sharply  that, 
on  the  contrary,  sport  was  a  pleasure  essentially  aris- 
tocratic and  seemed  to  him  marvellously  well  suited 
to  a  gentleman.  Besides,  in  antiquity  itself  the  chase 
was  specially  reserved  to  noblemen  of  the  highest 
families:  witness  Meleagcr,  son  of  TEneas  and  King 
of  Calydon  ;  Heracles,  son  of  Zeus  and  Semcle  ;  and, 
above  all,  there  was  Apollo,  son  of  Zeus  and  Latona, 
that  is  to  say,  of  a  god  and  goddess,  who  l)orc  no 
stain  on  his  paternal  and  maternal  quarterings,  so 
that  he  might  even,  like  himself,  Marchese  di  San 
Floridio,  be  a  Knight  of  Malta.  The  marquis  knew 
very  well  there  was  a  wide  difference  between  the 
serpent  Python,  the  lion  of  Ncmea,  the  wild-lx>ar  of 
Calydon,  and  snipe,  rails,  and  teal ;  but  take  it  alto- 
gether, his  son,  brave  as  he  was,  could  n't  kill  any- 
thing but  what  he  met,  and  if  bv  chance  his  dog 
should  put  up  any  sort  of  a  monster  it  was  very  cer- 


186          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

tain  that  Ferdinando  would  kill  it.  The  poor  mother 
could  make  no  reply  to  so  learned  an  harangue,  so 
she  contented  herself  with  sighing,  kissing  her  son, 
and  begging  him  to  be  careful. 

That  same  evening  Ferdinando  established  himself 
in  the  country-house  of  the  Marchese  di  San-Florid io, 
about  five  hundred  steps  from  the  Gothic  chapel, 
which  in  point  of  fact  belonged  to  it. 

Whatever  desire  the  young  man  had  to  renew  his 
nocturnal  experience,  he  was  forced  to  await  the  mor- 
row ;  he  had  to  make  acquaintance  with  the  locali- 
ties, obtain  the  key  of  the  park  gate,  and  ask  for 
certain  information  in  the  neighbourhood. 

These  inquiries  were  without  result.  People  re- 
membered to  have  seen  from  time  to  time  in  the 
village  of  Belvedere  a  man  answering  the  description 
given  by  the  count,  but  no  one  knew  his  name  or 
where  he  came  from.  The  gardener  of  the  chateau, 
however,  entering  eagerly  into  the  voung  counts  in- 
terest, promised  to  get  more  particulars  regarding 
this  unknown  personage. 

That  night  Ferdinando  went  alone  through  the 
park  gate,  armed  with  his  sword  and  a  pair  of  pistols, 
to  the  chapel,  locked  the  door  behind  him,  stationed 
himself  in  the  confessional,  like  a  soldier  in  a  sentrv- 
box,  and  watched  till  morning  without  seeing  any 
apparition  or  any  other  event  of  the  slightest  interest. 

The  next  night,  the   night  after,  and  the  fourth 
night  the   count   renewed   the  experiment    without- 
obtaining  anv  result.     lie  began  to  believe  he  had 
dreamed,  and  that  his  dog  had  misled  him  by  smell- 
ing rats.       But  in   the  course  of  the  fifth  day  the 


THE   SPERONARA  187 

man  in  the  cloak  reappeared  in  the  village,  and  the 
gardener  set  to  work  to  obtain  information.  This, 
it  must  be  owned,  was  very  vague.  The  name  of  the 
man  was  unknown,  but  he  was  certainly  very  chari- 
table, for  each  time  that  he  came  to  Belvedere  he 
gave  litaral  alms.  He  usually  stopped  at  the  house 
of  a  peasant  named  Rizzo.  The  gardener  went  to 
see  this  peasant  and  questioned  all  the  family,  but 
learned  nothing  beyond  the  fact  that  the  man  in  the 
cloak  had  come  to  their  house  several  times  to  ask 
the  names  and  addresses  of  the  poorest  inhabitants 
of  Belvedere.  Often  he  had  given  them  money  to 
buy  food  of  all  kinds,  such  as  bread,  ham,  fruits, 
which  he  distributed  himself  among  the  poor.  Two 
or  three  times  he  was  accompanied  by  a  young  lad 
wrapped  in  a  cloak,  who  seemed  very  sad.  The 
peasants  fancied  that  this  lad  was  a  woman,  and 
had  joked  the  stranger  on  the  subject ;  but  he  took 
the  jest  in  bad  part,  and  answered,  in  a  tone  that 
admitted  of  no  reply,  that  the  youth  was  a  young 
priest,  a  relation  of  his,  who  could  not  get  accus- 
tomed to  life  in  the  seminary,  so  he  brought  him 
now  and  then  into  the  country  to  amuse  him. 

All  this,  far  from  lessening  the  young  count's 
curiosity  excited  it  the  more,  and  on  the  following 
night  he  was  at  his  post,  but  neither  that  night  nor 
the  next  did  lie  see  anything  of  the  man  he  was 
awaiting.  At  Lost,  however,  on  the  seventh  night 
since  that  of  their  first  encounter  he  heard  the  door 
turn  on  its  hinges  and  then  close ;  an  instant  later 
a  lantern  shone  out  suddenly,  as  if  it  had  been  lighted 
in  the  church.  It  passed,  as  before,  the  confessional, 


188          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

and  by  its  gleam  Ferdinando  recognized  the  man  of 
the  cloak.  This  man  walked  straight  to  the  side 
altar,  raised  the  lowest  of  its  three  steps,  and  took  out 
something  that  Ferdinando  could  not  see ;  then  he 
approached  the  wall,  appeared  to  insert  a  key  in  a 
lock,  opened  a  secret  door,  which,  being  made  between 
two  pilasters,  moved  a  whole  section  of  the  stones, 
closed  the  door  behind  him,  and  disappeared. 

This  time  the  count  was  wide-awake:  no  doubt 
here  ;  this  was  not  an  illusion.  The  young  man  re- 
flected as  to  what  he  had  better  do.  If  it  had  been 
broad  daylight,  if  there  had  been  witnesses  to  ap- 
plaud his  courage,  if  his  feelings  of  pride  had  been 
excited  in  any  way,  he  would  have  waited  for  the  re- 
turn of  the  man,  marched  straight  at  him  sword  in 
hand,  and  demanded  an  explanation  of  the  mystery. 
But  he  was  alone,  it  was  dark,  there  was  no  one  to 
praise  the  grand  air  with  which  he  put  himself  on 
guard ;  consequently  Count  Ferdinando  listened  to 
the  voice  of  prudence,  and  here  is  what  prudence  ad- 
vised him  to  do : 

The  man  had  knelt  before  the  altar,  had  raised  a 
stone ;  from  under  that  stone  he  had  taken  some- 
thing; that  something  must  be  a  kev,  since  with  it 
he  had  ojK-ned  a  door.  No  doubt  in  going  away  he 
would  put  the  key  in  the  place  from  which  he  had 
taken  it.  Plainly,  what  the  young  count  had  better 
do  was  to  wait  quietly  until  he  was  gone,  take  the 
key,  open  the  door  himself  and  enter  the  subterra- 
nean cavern. 

The  plan  was  so  simple  that  it  is  no  wonder  that 
it  occurred  to  Ferdinando's  mind  or  that  he  fastened 


THE  SPERONARA  189 

upon  it.  This  docs  not,  however,  prevent,  as  some 
adventurous  imaginations  may  suppose,  the  young 
count  from  being  a  very  brave  and  very  chivalrous 
young  man ;  only,  as  I  have  said,  there  was  no 
one  looking  on,  so  prudence  carried  the  day  against 
pride. 

He  waited  nearly  two  hours.  Four  o'clock  in  the 
morning  had  just  struck  when  the  mysterious  door 
opened  ;  the  man  in  the  cloak  came  out,  lantern  in 
hand,  approached  the  altar,  raised  the  stone,  hid  the 
key,  replaced  the  step,  passed  once  more  within  two 
feet  of  Ferdinando,  blew  out  his  lantern  as  before, 
and  went  out,  locking  the  church  door  after  him, 
and  leaving  the  count  alone  in  the  church  and  well- 
nigh  master  of  his  secret. 

Whatever  impatience  Ferdinando  felt  to  carry  on 
his  adventure,  not  having  taken  the  precaution  to 
bring  a  lantern,  he  was  forced  to  wait  until  daylight. 
However,  each  moment's  delay  gave  time  for  the 
man  in  the  cloak  to  go  farther  away  and  one 
chance  the  more  to  Ferdinando  not  to  be  surprised. 

At  the  first  rays  of  light  he  left  the  confessional, 
went  to  the  altar,  and  raised  the  step  ;  but  at  first  he 
saw  nothing  that  resembled  what  he  sought.  At 
last,  in  a  little  hole,  he  saw  a  wooden  peg,  which,  as 
he  took  it  up,  let  fall  into  his  hand  a  small  round 
key,  like  that  of  a  piano.  lie  examined  it  carefully, 
put  the  step  back  in  its  place,  went  to  the  wall,  and 
guided  this  time  by  certainty,  ended  by  discover- 
ing in  the  angle  of  the  pilaster  a  small  round  hole, 
almost  invisible  on  account  of  the  shadow  projected 
by  the  column.  He  introduced  the  key,  and  the 


190          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

door  turned  on  its  hinges  with  a  facility  which  its 
weight  made  surprising.  He  saw  before  him  a  dark 
corridor,  the  dampness  of  which  came  out  to  meet 
him  and  chilled  him.  Not  a  ray  of  light,  not  a  sound 
of  any  kind. 

Ferdinando  stopped.  It  would  have  been  too 
imprudent  to  venture  unprepared  into  that  vault; 
some  open  trap  might  cruelly  punish  the  curiosity 
of  a  rash  visitor.  He  reclosed  the  door,  and,  satisfied 
with  this  beginning  of  discovery,  he  returned  to  the 
chateau  determined  to  bring  a  lantern  the  following 
night,  and  push  his  investigation  to  its  end.  He 
spent  the  whole  day  in  a  state  of  agitation  we  can 
easily  comprehend.  Again  and  again  he  questioned 
Peppino  the  gardener,  as  if  he  could  tell  him  some- 
thing more  than  he  knew  already.  The  worthy  man 
could  only  repeat  what  he  had  said,  adding  how- 
ever, that  the  man  in  the  cloak  had  been  seen  in 
the  village  the  night  before ;  evidently  he  was  the 
same  man  who  had  entered  the  chapel. 

At  ten  o'clock  Ferdinando  left  the  chateau  with  a 
dark  lantern  ;  he  was  armed  as  before,  with  a  sword 
and  a  pair  of  pistols.  He  entered  the  chapel  with- 
out meeting  any  one  on  his  way,  raised  the  stone, 
found  the  kev,  unlocked  the  door,  and  saw  before 
him  the  dark  corridor.  This  time,  armed  with  his 
lantern,  he  boldly  entered  it.  Hardly  had  he  gone 
twenty  steps  before  he  came  to  a  stairway,  and  at  the 
foot  of  that  stairway  was  a  locked  door,  for  which  he 
had  no  key.  Irritated  by  this  new  obstacle,  he 
shook  the  door  violently  to  see  if  it  would  not  yield. 
It  remained  firm,  and  the  young  count  saw  that  with- 


THE   SPERONARA  191 

out  a  file  and  pincers  the  lock  could  not  be  forced. 
For  an  instant  he  thought  of  calling  for  assistance, 
but  —  the  truth  must  be  told  —  at  the  moment  he 
was  going  to  shout  an  involuntary  shudder  seixed 
him,  so  mysterious  and  terrible  did  everything  seem 
to  him,  even  the  sound  of  his  own  voice  ! 

He  therefore  left  the  corridor  slowly,  closed  the 
door  behind  him,  replaced  the  key  under  the  step, 
and  went  back  to  the  chateau  to  obtain  a  file  and 
pincers.  On  his  way  he  met  a  man,  whom  he  hardly 
distinguished  in  the  darkness ;  moreover,  on  per- 
ceiving him  the  man  had  crossed  to  the  other  side 
of  the  road,  and  when  Ferdinando  came  near  him, 
he  turned  sharply  to  the  right  and  disappeared  like 
a  shadow  among  the  papyrus  and  tall  reeds  that 
bordered  the  road.  The  count  continued  his  way, 
not  reflecting  very  much  on  this  meeting,  which  was, 
after  all,  not  unusual ;  for  in  all  parts  of  Sicily 
there  are  crowds  of  people  who  do  not  like  to  be 
approached  at  night.  Nevertheless,  as  far  as  Ferdi- 
nando could  make  out,  the  man  was  wrapped  in  a 
cloak  like  the  one  that  was  worn  by  the  man  in  the 
chapel.  But  this  idea  presenting  itself  to  the  young 
count's  mind  acted  only  as  a  spur  the  more  to  make 
him  push  the  affair  to  its  conclusion  that  very  night. 
For  several  days  he  had  been  making  little  conces- 
sions to  himself,  which  he  now  thought  much  too 
prudent  ;  and  he  made  up  his  mind  to  settle  the 
matter  at  once  and  recoil  at  nothing. 

At  the  chateau  he  found  neither  file  nor  pincers, 
but  he  did  find  a  crowbar,  which  would  serve  him 
equally  well  to  break  down  the  second  door  instead 


192          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

of  opening  it.  At  the  point  at  which  he  had  now 
arrived,  it  did  not  matter  to  him  how  the  door  was 
made  to  yield,  provided  it  yielded.  Armed  with  this 
new  implement,  and  renewing  the  candle  in  his 
lantern,  he  returned  to  the  chapel,  approached  the 
altar,  raised  the  step,  took  up  the  peg,  shook  it  — 
but  uselessly,  the  key  was  gone !  No  doubt  the 
man  in  the  cloak  had  returned  during  his  absence, 
and  was  now  in  the  cavern. 

This  time,  as  I  have  said,  Ferdinando  was  firmly 
decided  to  recoil  at  nothing.  He  rose,  pale  but 
calm ;  examined  the  priming  of  his  pistols,  made 
sure  that  his  sword  came  freely  from  its  scabbard, 
and  walked  to  the  wall  to  listen  for  any  noise.  As 
he  did  so,  the  door  opened  and  he  found  himself 
face  to  face  with  the  man  in  the  cloak. 

Both,  by  instinct,  made  a  step  backward,  and 
lighted  each  other  mutually  by  the  lanterns  they 
held  in  their  hands.  The  man  in  the  cloak  then 
perceived  that  the  person  with  whom  he  had  to  do 
was  almost  a  boy,  and  a  disdainful  smile  came  upon 
his  lips.  Ferdinando  saw  that  smile,  understood  its 
meaning,  and  resolved  to  prove  to  the  intruder  that 
he  was  mistaken,  and  that  he  himself  was  indeed  a 
man  to  be  reckoned  with. 

Then  followed  a  moment's  silence,  during  which 
they  both  drew  their  swords,  for  the  unknown  man 
wore  a  sword,  though  he  had  no  pistols. 

"  Who  are  you  ? "  asked  the  count  imperiously, 
Ix'ing  the  first  to  break  silence.  "  And  what  are  you 
doing  at  this  hour  in  this  chapel?" 

"  What   are   you   doing  here  yourself,    my  little 


THE   SPERONARA  193 

gentleman  ?  "  sneered  the  stranger ;   "  and  who  are 
you,  if  you  please,  to  speak  to  me  in  that  tone  ?  " 

"  I  am  Don  Ferdinando,  son  of  the  Marchese  di 
San  Floridio,  and  this  chapel  belongs  to  my  family.'1 

"  Don  Ferdinando,  son  of  the  Marchese  di  San 
Floridio  !  "  repeated  the  stranger  in  tones  of  astonish- 
ment. "  And  why  are  you  here  at  this  hour?  " 

"  You  forget  it  is  for  me  to  question  you.  Why 
are  you  here  ?  " 

"  That,  my  young  gentleman,""  said  the  stranger, 
coming  out  of  the  corridor,  locking  the  door  and 
taking  out  the  key,  "  is  a  secret  which,  with  your 
permission,  I  shall  keep  to  myself,  for  it  concerns 
only  me." 

"  All  that  passes  here  on  my  estate  concerns  me," 
replied  Ferdinando.  "  Your  secret,  or  your  life  !  " 

So  saying,  he  touched  the  point  of  his  sword  to  the 
breast  of  the  stranger,  who  seeing  its  glitter,  put  it 
hastily  aside  with  his  own. 

"  Ho !  ho  ! "  cried  the  young  count,  for  rapid  as 
the  action  had  been,  he  recognized  by  the  unusual 
way  the  parry  had  been  made  that  his  adversary  was 
perfectly  ignorant  of  the  noble  art  of  fencing.  "  You 
are  not  a  gentleman,  mv  good  friend,  for  you  do  not 
know  how  to  handle  a  sword  ;  you  are  simply  a 
clown,  and  that  \s  another  thing.  Your  secret,  or 
I  "ll  have  you  hanged  !  " 

The  man  in  the  cloak  gave  vent  to  a  roar  of  anger ; 
nevertheless,  after  making  a  step  in  advance  as  if  lo 
lling  himself  upon  the  young  count,  he  stopped  and 
restrained  the  impulse. 

"  No,"  he  said,  with  some  coolness.    u  No  !     I  have 
13 


194          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

a  mind  to  spare  you  on  account  of  the  name  you 
bear ;  but  it  can't  be  done  if  you  insist  on  knowing 
the  purpose  for  which  I  come  here.  Retire  instantly, 
forget  that  you  have  seen  me,  cease  your  visits  to 
this  chapel,  swear  upon  that  altar  that  no  one  shall 
ever  know  you  met  me  here.  The  Floridios,  I  know, 
are  men  of  honour ;  you  will  keep  your  oath.  On 
those  conditions  I  will  let  you  live." 

It  was  now  Ferdinando's  turn  to  roar. 

"  Miserable  wretch !  "  he  cried,  "you  threaten  when 
you  ought  to  tremble !  you  question  when  you  ought 
to  answer !  Who  are  you  ?  what  are  you  doing 
here  ?  where  does  that  door  lead  ?  Answer,  or  you 
are  dead  ! " 

And  the  count  touched  his  sword  for  the  second 
time  to  the  other  man's  breast. 

This  time  the  latter  did  not  merely  parry,  he 
returned  a  thrust,  flinging  away  his  lantern  to  hide 
himself  as  much  as  possible  from  the  thrusts  of  his 
adversary  ;  but  Ferdinando,  extending  his  left  arm, 
lighted  him  clearly  with  his  lantern,  and  a  terrible 
struggle  ensued  between  strength  on  one  side  and 
skill  on  the  other.  In  face  of  danger  Ferdinando 
had  recovered  all  his  courage ;  for  several  seconds  he 
contented  himself  by  parrying  with  as  much  skill  as 
coolness  the  inexperienced  thrusts  of  his  enemy ; 
then,  attacking  in  his  turn  with  his  trained  superior- 
ity he  forced  the  man  backward  till  he  brought  him 
to  a  stand  against  a  column,  where  seeing  the  impos- 
sibility of  further  struggle,  he  thrust  his  sword  with 
such  violence  into  the  man's  breast  that  it  not  only 
went  through  his  body,  but  blunted  itself  against  the 


THE   SPERONARA  195 

column  on  the  other  side.  Instantly  he  made  one 
step  in  retreat,  withdrawing  his  sword  and  putting 
himself  on  guard. 

A  moment  of  dead  silence  followed,  during  which 
the  count,  turning  the  light  of  his  lantern  full  on  the 
unknown  man,  saw  him  put  his  left  hand  to  his 
hrcast,  while  his  right,  which  no  longer  had  strength 
to  hold  the  sword,  dropped  slowly,  letting  fall  the 
weapon  ;  then  the  wounded  man  sank  slowly  to  his 
knees  saying  as  he  did  so  : 

"  I  am  dead  !  " 

"  If  you  are  wounded  as  badly  as  you  say,"  re- 
turned Ferdinando,  not  moving  from  his  position 
for  fear  of  being  surprised,  "  I  think  you  would  do 
well  to  think  of  your  soul,  which  does  not  seem  to 
me  in  a  state  of  grace.  I  advise  you,  if  you  have  a 
secret  to  reveal,  to  lose  no  time.  If  it  is  a  secret 
which  I  may  hear,  tell  it  to  me  ;  if  it  can  be  revealed 
to  no  one  but  a  priest,  say  so,  and  I  will  fetch  one." 

"  Yes,""  said  the  dying  man,  "  I  have  a  secret,  and 
a  secret  which  concerns  you,  if  you  really  are,  as  you 
say,  the  son  of  the  Marchese  di  San  Floridio." 

"  I  told  you,  and  I  repeat  it,  I  am  Don  Ferdi- 
nando, Count  of  San  Floridio,  sole  heir  of  my  familv." 

"  Go  to  the  altar  and  swear  it  on  the  crucifix." 

The  count  rebelled  at  the  thought  that  a  clown 
should  refuse  to  believe  his  word,  but  reflecting  that 
he  owed  some  indulgence  to  a  man  about  to  die  by 
his  act  he  went  to  the  altar,  mounted  the  steps,  and 
made  the  required  oath. 

"  That  is  well,"  said  the  wounded  man,  "  now 
come  nearer  and  take  this  kev." 


196          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

The  young  man  eagerly  advanced  and  held  out 
his  hand,  into  which  the  dying  man  placed  a  key. 
The  count  felt  at  its  touch  that  it  was  not  the  key 
of  the  secret  door. 

"  What  key  is  this  ?"  he  asked. 

"  You  must  go  to  Carlentini,"  said  the  man,  evad- 
ing an  answer  to  the  question ;  "  there  you  must  ask 
for  the  house  of  Gaetano  Cantarello;  you  must 
enter  that  house  alone  —  alone,  do  you  hear  me  ? 
In  the  bedroom,  at  the  foot  of  the  bed  you  will  find 
a  tile  marked  with  a  cross ;  beneath  that  tile  is  a 
coffer  in  which  are  sixty  thousand  ducats  ;  you  will 
take  them  :  they  are  yours." 

"  What  is  all  this  tale  ?  "  asked  the  count.  "  I 
don't  know  you  ;  I  don't  wish  to  inherit  money  from 
you." 

"Those  sixty  thousand  ducats  belong  to  you. 
They  were  stolen  from  your  uncle,  the  Marchese  di 
San  Floridio  of  Messina,  by  me,  Gaetano  Cantarello, 
his  servant.  It  is  not  an  inheritance ;  it  is  a 
restitution." 

"  Inheritance  or  restitution,  I  don't  care  which," 
cried  the  count.  "  I  am  not  searching  for  sixty  thou- 
sand ducats ;  that  is  not  the  secret  I  wish  to  know. 
Here,"  he  added  flinging  the  key  to  Cantarello,  "  take 
back  the  key  of  your  house,  and  give  me  in  exchange 
the  key  of  this  door ; "  and  he  pointed  to  the  wall. 

"  Come  and  take  it,"  said  Cantarello  in  a  dying 
voice,  "  I  have  no  strength  to  give  it  to  you  ;  here, 
here  in  this  pocket." 

Ferdinando  advanced  without  distrust  and  leaned 
over  the  dvinj;  man.  Hut  the  latter  sei/ed  him 


THE   SPERONARA  197 

suddenly  with  his  left  hand  and  with  the  desperate 
strength  of  dying  power,  while  with  the  right  he 
grasped  his  sword  and  struck  the  young  man  a  blow 
which  luckily  deflected,  causing  only  a  comparatively 
slight  wound. 

"  Ah  !  miserable  traitor  ! "  cried  the  count,  snatch- 
ing a  pistol  from  his  belt  and  discharging  it  point- 
blank  at  Cantarello.  "  Die  as  a  dog  and  a  reprobate 
if  you  will  not  repent  as  a  Christian  and  a  man." 

Cantarello  fell  over,  —  this  time  quite  dead. 

Ferdinando  stooped  over  him,  his  second  pistol  in 
hand  for  fear  of  surprise;  then,  very  certain  there 
was  nothing  to  fear,  he  searched  the  body  carefully  ; 
but  nowhere,  in  no  pocket,  could  he  find  the  key  of 
the  secret  door.  Doubtless,  in  the  struggle  Canta- 
rello had  flung  it  behind  him,  hoping  in  that  way  to 
prevent  his  adversary  from  obtaining  it. 

Then  the  count  picked  up  his  lantern  which  he 
had  let  fall,  and  began  to  search  for  the  key  leading 
to  the  secret  which  continued  to  escape  him  in  so 
singular  a  manner.  At  the  end  of  a  few  minutes, 
weakened  by  loss  of  blood  from  his  wound,  he  felt 
his  head  humming  as  if  all  the  bells  of  the  chapel 
were  ringing  at  once  ;  the  pillars  that  supported  the 
roof  seemed  to  detach  themselves  from  the  floor  and 
walk  round  him  ;  he  fancied  the  walls  were  closing 
in  and  would  smother  him  like  those  of  a  tomb. 
With  a  mighty  effort  he  sprang  towards  the  door  of 
the  chapel  to  breathe  the  open  air;  but  before  he 
had  made  ten  steps  in  that  direction  his  weakness 
overcame  him  and  he  fell  unconscious. 

When  Don    Ferdinando  came  to  himself  he  was 


198          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

lying  in  a  bedroom  of  the  chateau  Belvedere,  his 
mother  weeping  beside  him,  the  marquis  walking 
with  great  strides  up  and  down  the  room,  and  the 
doctor  preparing  to  bleed  him  for  the  fifth  time. 
Peppino  the  gardener,  through  whom  the  young 
count  had  made  such  frequent  inquiries  about  the 
man  in  the  cloak,  had  felt  anxious  at  seeing  his 
master  go  out  so  late  ;  he  had  followed  him  at  a  dis- 
tance ;  hearing  the  pistol-shot  he  entered  the  chapel 
and  found  Ferdinando  unconscious  and  Cantarello 
dead. 

The  young  count's  first  words  were  a  question  as 
to  whether  the  key  had  been  found.  The  marquis 
and  his  wife  exchanged  anxious  looks. 

"  Do  not  be  uneasy,'"  said  the  doctor ;  "  after  so 
serious  a  wound,  there  is  nothing  surprising  in  a  little 
delirium." 

"  I  am  perfectly  calm,  and  I  know  very  well  what 
I  am  saying,11  declared  Ferdinando.  "  I  ask  if  the 
key  of  the  secret  door  has  been  found,  —  a  little  key, 
made  like  the  key  of  a  piano."" 

"  Oh  !  my  poor  child  !  "  cried  the  marchesa,  clasp- 
ing her  hands  and  raising  her  eves  to  heaven. 

"Tranquillize  yourself,  madam,'1  said  the  doctor, 
"it  is  only  a  passing  delirium;  after  this  fifth 
bleeding  — 

"  Go  to  the  devil,  you  and  your  bleeding,  doctor !  " 
cried  the  patient.  "  You  have  drawn  more  blood 
out  of  me  with  your  miserable  lancet  than  Canta- 
rello with  his  sword."1 

"Oh  !  he  is  mad  !  he  is  mad  !  "  sobbed  his  mother. 

"  Well,  in  any  case,  my  dear  father,"  said  Ferdi- 


THE  SPERONARA  199 

nnndo,  "  my  madness  will  serve  your  interests,  for  I 
have  recovered  for  you  sixty  thousand  ducats  which 
you  thought  you  had  lost,  but  which  are  now  at 
Calentini,  at  the  foot  of  Cantarello's  bed,  under  a 
tile  marked  by  a  cross ;  you  can  send  and  get  them 
and  see  if  I  am  mad.  Let  me  alone,  doctor  ;  what  I 
want  is  a  good  roast  chicken  and  a  bottle  of  Bordeaux 
wine,  and  none  of  your  cursed  bleedings." 

It  was  now  the  doctor  who  raised  his  eves  to  heaven. 

"  My  child,  my  dear  child  !  "  cried  the  marchesa ; 
"do  you  wish  to  make  me  die  of  grief?"" 

"  Is  another  bleeding  absolutely  indispensable  ?  " 
asked  his  father. 

"  Absolutely,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"  Well,  then,  we  must  call  in  four  of  the  servants 
and  have  him  held  by  main  force  on  the  bed  while 
you  operate." 

"  Good  God  !  "  cried  the  count,  "  there  "s  no  need 
of  all  that.  Is  it  going  to  give  you  a  vast  deal  of 
pleasure,  my  dear  mother,  to  see  me  bled  ? " 

"  Yes,  because  they  say  it  will  do  vou  good." 

"  Here,  doctor,  here  ""s  my  arm  ;  but  it  is  to  be  the 
last  time,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  the  last  time,"  said  the  doctor,  "  provided 
it  relieves  the  head  and  causes  the  delirium  to 
disappear." 

The  doctor  performed  his  operation,  but  as  the 
count  was  already  horribly  weakened  he  could  not 
support  this  fresh  loss  of  blood  and  he  fainted  again  ; 
fortunately  this  return  of  unconsciousness  lasted  only 
a  few  moments. 

While  thev  were    bleeding   him  against    his  will 


200          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

Ferdinando  made  certain  reflections ;  he  saw  that 
if  he  talked  any  more  about  the  key  of  the  piano, 
the  buried  money,  and  the  secret  door,  they 
would  think  him  still  delirious,  and  bleed  and  re- 
bleed  him  till  all  his  natural  strength  was  gone. 
Consequently,  he  resolved  to  say  nothing  more  of 
those  matters,  but  to  keep  himself  to  himself  and  ac- 
complish entirely  alone  an  enterprise  he  had  begun 
alone.  So  the  young  count  came  out  of  his  second 
unconsciousness  with  the  meekest  disposition  in  the 
world  ;  he  kissed  his  mother,  saluted  his  father  re- 
spectfully, and  held  out  his  hand  to  the  doctor,  say- 
ing that  he  felt  it  was  to  his  great  art  he  owed  his 
life.  At  these  words  the  doctor  declared  the  delirium 
had  entirely  disappeared,  and  answered  for  his 
patient's  recovery. 

Ferdinando  then  risked  asking  for  a  few  details  as 
to  what  had  happened.  lie  learned  that  the  gar- 
dener had  followed  him,  and  hearing  a  pistol-shot  had 
entered  the  church  and  found  him  lying  ten  paces 
distant  from  a  dead  man,  in  a  condition  not  far  re- 
moved from  that  of  the  corpse.  These  questions  on 
his  part  naturally  led  to  others  on  the  part  of  his 
father  and  mother.  But  Ferdinando  simply  answered 
that  having  entered  the  church  out  of  curiosity 
l>ecause  in  passing  he  fancied  he  heard  a  noise  there, 
he  had  been  attacked  by  a  tall  man  whom  he  believed 
lie  had  killed.  He  added  that  he  was  very  desirous 
to  thank  the  gardener  for  his  /eal,  and  he  requested 
that  Peppino  should  be  brought  to  see  him.  They 
promised  that  if  on  the  morrow  he  should  con- 
tinue to  get  better  his  request  would  be  granted. 


THE  SPERONARA  201 

That  very  evening,  as  the  marquis  and  his  wife, 
profiting  by  a  doxe  of  their  patient,  had  gone  to 
supper,  Ferdinando,  waking  up,  heard  the  voice  of 
1'eppino  at  his  door,  asking  about  the  condition 
of  his  young  master.  Instantly  Ferdinando  called 
out  to  the  servants  to  let  him  in.  The  footman  on 
service  hesitated,  but  Ferdinando  reiterated  the  order 
in  so  imperative  a  tone  that  on  the  count's  promise 
that  he  would  keep  him  only  a  few  moments  the 
man  admitted  him. 

"  Peppino,"  said  Ferdinando  as  soon  as  the  door 
was  closed,  "  you  are  a  brave  fellow,  and  I  regret  now 
I  did  not  put  more  confidence  in  you.  You  can  earn 
a  hundred  onces  if  you  choose  to  obey  me,  and  obey 
only  me." 

"  Speak,  my  young  lord,"  replied  Peppino. 

"  What  have  they  done  with  the  man  I  killed  ?  " 

"  Taken  him  to  the  village  church,  where  his  body 
was  shown  in  order  to  get  it  recognized." 

"Has  it  been  recognized  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  For  whom  ?  " 

"  The  man  with  the  cloak  who  went  to  the  Ri/./osV 

"  Hut  his  name  ?  " 

"  Not  known." 

"  Good.     They  searched  him  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  they  found  nothing  on  him  but  money, 
flint,  tinder,  and  a  match.  All  those  articles  are  on 
view  at  the  judge's  house." 

*'  Among  them  was  there  a  kev  ?" 

"  I  think  not." 

'"  (io  to  the  judge's  house;  examine  those  articles 


202  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

minutely,  and  if  there  is  a  key  come  back  and  tell 
me  what  shape  it  is.  If  there  is  no  key,  go  to  the 
chapel  and  hunt  all  round  the  column  near  which 
the  body  lay  ;  you  will  find  two  keys." 

«*  Two  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  one,  a  good  deal  like  the  key  of  this  secre- 
tary ;  the  other,  small  and  round,  like  the  key  of  a 
piano  —  here !  like  that  one  over  there.  Do  you 
understand  ?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

"  Whether  you  find  one,  or  whether  you  find  two, 
you  are  to  bring  whatever  you  find  back  to  me  — 
but  only  to  me,  mind  you." 

"  To  no  one  but  you,  that 's  agreed." 

"  Come  to-morrow,  Peppino." 

"  To-morrow,  Excellency." 

"  By  the  bye !  come  when  my  father  and  mother 
are  at  breakfast,  so  that  we  can  talk  at  our  ease." 

"  Good ;  I  '11  watch  the  time." 

"  The  hundred  onces  will  be  ready  for  you." 

"  They  will  be  very  welcome,  your  Excellency,  see- 
ing that  I  am  going  to  marry  that  daughter  of  llix/o, 
—  a  fine  slip  of  a  girl." 

"Hush!  here's  my  mother  coming  back.  Go 
through  that  closet,  and  down  by  the  little  staircase, 
so  that  she  may  not  see  you." 

Peppino  obeyed.  When  the  marchesa  entered  she 
found  her  son  alone  and  perfectly  himself. 

The  next  day  at  the  hour  agreed  upon,  Peppino 
returned.  He  had  executed  his  commission  with 
admirable  intelligence.  Among  the  articles  at  the 
judge's  house  was  an  ordinary  key  like  that  of  a 


THE   SPERONARA  203 

secretary.  Having  made  sure  of  this  fact,  Peppino 
went  to  the  chapel  and  made  such  a  thorough  search 
that  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  altar  he  had  found 
the  second  key,  made  like  that  of  a  piano.  No 
doubt  Contarello  had  flung  it  as  far  away  from  him 
as  he  could.  The  young  count  sei/ed  it  eagerly  ;  he 
saw  it  was  the  very  same  that  he  had  found  under 
the  first  step  of  the  altar,  the  one  which  opened  the 
door  of  the  corridor.  He  hid  it  under  the  pillow  of 
his  bed.  Then,  turning  to  Peppino,  he  said  : 

"  Listen.  I  don't  know  when  I  shall  be  able  to 
get  up ;  but,  at  all  hazards,  have  ready  in  your  own 
house  for  the  moment  when  I  shall  want  them,  two 
torches,  pincers,  a  file,  and  a  crowbar,  and  try  not  to 
be  out  of  your  own  house  at  night  for  the  next 
fifteen  days." 

Peppino  promised  the  count  to  have  ready  the 
articles  required,  and  went  away. 

I-ieft  alone,  Ferdinando  wanted  to  see  how  much 
strength  he  had,  and  he  tried  to  rise.  But  scarcely 
did  he  get  into  a  sitting  posture  before  he  felt  every- 
thing twirling  about  him.  His  wound  was  not  seri- 
ous, but  the  doctor's  bleedings  had  so  weakened  him 
that,  seeing  he  was  likely  to  faint  again,  he  lay  down 
as  fast  as  possible,  fully  understanding  that  before 
he  attempted  any  further  action  he  must  wait  till 
his  strength  came  back. 

So  he  remained  all  that  day  and  all  the  morrow 
very  quiet,  showing  no  signs  of  delirium  beyond 
demanding  from  time  to  time  chicken  and  Bordeaux 
wine.  But,  as  will  readily  be  believed,  the  doctor 
considered  those  demands  exorbitant  and  even  crazy  ; 


204          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

he  said  they  denoted  the  remains  of  fever  which 
must  Ix?  combated  ;  so  he  ordered  herb  broth  to  be 
severely  continued,  and  talked  of  a  sixth  bleeding  if 
these  symptoms  of  disordered  appetite,  which  indi- 
cated weakness  of  the  patient's  stomach,  were  not 
subdued.  Ferdinando  took  the  hint,  and  seeing  that 
lie  was  absolutely  at  the  doctor's  mercy,  he  resigned 
himself  to  the  herb  broth. 

At  the  end  of  another  ten  days,  being  really  well 
and  allowed  to  move  about  the  house,  he  sent  for 
Peppino,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  alone  with  him  asked 
for  news  of  what  had  happened  during  his  confine- 
ment. Nothing  had  happened  ;  all  was  in  precisely 
the  same  state.  The  name  of  the  dead  man,  who 
had  now  been  buried,  was  still  unknown  ;  no  one  had 
entered  the  chapel,  but  peasants  passing  the  place  at 
night  said  they  heard  groans  and  the  sound  of  chains 
being  rattled  underground,  —  proof  positive  that  the 
deceased  had  died  in  his  sins,  and  that  his  soul  had 
come  back  to  ask  the  pravcrs  of  him  who  had  so 
violently  and  unexpectedly  driven  it  from  his  Ixxlv. 

All  this  only  made  Ferdinando  the  more  determined 
to  carry  out  his  original  intentions,  and  he  resolved 
to  attempt  the  enterprise  at  once.  Consequently,  he 
told  the  tale  to  Peppino,  ordered  him  to  keep  it 
secret,  and  to  be  ready  with  torches,  crowbar,  pincers, 
and  file  at  the  little  park  gate  leading  from  the 
chateau  to  the  chapel  on  the  night  but  one  follow- 
ing. Peppino  promised  all  that  his  young  master 
wished. 

Everything  went  on  as  planned  :  Ferdinando,  no 
longer  nursed  and  watched,  left  the  chateau  soon 


THE   SPERONARA  205 

after  midnight,  met  Peppino  at  the  little  gate,  and 
together  they  entered  the  chapel. 

The  impression  on  Don  Ferdinando  was  deep  when 
he  found  himself  again  at  the  spot  where  he  had 
gone  through  such  violent  emotions  and  run  so 
terrible  a  danger  ;  but  none  the  less  did  he  advance 
with  a  firm  step  towards  the  secret  door,  noting  on 
his  way  the  stains  of  Cantarello's  dried  blood  which 
still  reddened  the  pavement  about  the  column  at 
the  foot  of  which  he  had  fallen.  Ferdinando  turned 
aside  with  an  involuntary  shudder,  made  a  circuit, 
looking  askance  and  in  silence  at  the  traces  Death 
had  left  in  passing ;  then  he  went  straight  to  the 
secret  door  which  he  opened  without  difficulty.  Once 
in  the  corridor  the  two  young  men  lighted  each  a 
torch  and  continued  their  way,  went  down  the  stair- 
case and  found  the  second  door.  In  an  instant  they 
had  broken  it  in;  but  as  it  opened  so  noxious  an 
exhalation  issued  through  it  that  both  were  obliged 
to  step  back  several  paces  in  order  to  breathe  at  all. 
Don  Ferdinando  then  ordered  the  gardener  to  go 
back  and  set  the  first  door  open,  so  that  the  outer 
air  could  enter  these  subterranean  vaults.  Peppino 
went  back,  fixed  the  door  open,  and  returned.  Fer- 
dinando, impatient,  had  already  continued  his  wav, 
and  Peppino  saw  the  light  of  his  torch  shining 
brilliantly  in  the  distance.  Suddenly  the  gardener 
heard  a  cry  and  rushed  towards  his  master.  Ferdi- 
nando was  leaning  against  a  third  door,  which  he  had 
just  opened  ;  so  horrible  a  spectacle  had  met  his 
eves  that  he  could  not  repress  the  cry  at  which 
Peppino  hastened  to  him. 


206  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

This  third  door  opened  into  a  low  vaulted  cellar 
in  which  were  three  dead  bodies :  that  of  a  man 
fastened  to  the  wall  by  a  chain  that  went  round  his 
Avaist ;  that  of  a  woman  lying  on  a  mattress  ;  that 
of  a  child  fifteen  or  eighteen  months  old  lying  on 
its  mother.  Suddenly  the  young  men  quivered ; 
they  thought  they  heard  a  moan.  The  man  and 
woman  were  really  dead,  but  the  child  still  breathed  ; 
its  mouth  was  glued  to  a  vein  in  the  arm  of  its 
mother,  and  it  seemed  to  owe  its  prolonged  existence 
to  the  blood  it  had  sucked.  Nevertheless,  the  babe's 
weakness  was  so  great  that  it  was  evident  if  prompt 
care  were  not  given  to  it.  nothing  could  save  it ; 
the  woman  appeared  to  be  dead  for  some  hours,  the 
man  for  two  or  three  days. 

Don  Ferdinando's  decision  was  rapid  and  such  as 
the  gravity  of  the  case  demanded :  he  ordered  Pep- 
pino  to  take  the  child;  then,  convincing  himself 
that  no  other  creature  dead  or  living  was  in  the 
vault,  except  the  man  and  woman  (who  were  un- 
known to  both  the  young  men),  he  closed  the  door, 
left  the  cave  hastily,  closed  the  secret  exit,  and  fol- 
lowed by  Peppino  made  his  way  to  the  village  of 
Belvedere.  As  they  went  along  Peppino  gathered 
an  orange,  and  squeezed  a  little  of  the  juice  on  the 
lips  of  the  child,  which  opened  its  eyes,  but  shut 
them  instantly,  laying  its  hands  upon  them  and 
moaning  as  if  the  light  had  painfully  dazzled  them. 
But  as,  at  the  same  time,  the  child  opened  it  gasp- 
ing mouth,  Peppino  renewed  his  experiment,  and 
the  child,  though  still  keeping  its  eyes  closed,  seemed 
to  revive  a  very  little. 


THE  SPERONARA  207 

Don  Ferdinando  went  straight  to  the  judge,  told 
him  word  for  word  what  had  happened,  showed  him 
the  child  in  proof  of  what  he  said,  and  summoned 
him  to  go  with  him  to  the  vault  to  draw  up  the 
proccfi-verbal  and  identify  the  dead.  Then,  accom- 
panied by  the  judge,  he  went  to  the  doctor's  house, 
left  the  baby  in  charge  of  the  doctor's  wife,  and  all 
four  went  to  the  chapel.  Everything  there  was  in 
the  same  state  as  when  Ferdinando  and  Peppino  left 
it.  The  proems-verbal  began. 

The  body  chained  to  the  wall  was  that  of  a  man 
some  thirty-five  or  thirty-six  years  of  age,  who  seemed 
to  have  struggled  fearfully  to  break  his  chain  ;  his 
twisted  arms  were  stretched  towards  his  wife's  mouth, 
and  covered  with  wounds  made  by  his  own  teeth, 
seemingly  those  of  despair  more  than  of  hunger.  The 
doctor  declared  that  he  must  have  been  dead  about 
two  days.  The  man  was  totally  unknown  both  to 
him  and  to  the  judge,  and  to  the  young  count. 

The  woman  may  have  been  twenty-six  or  twenty- 
eight  years  old.  Her  death  seemed  to  have  been 
rather  quiet.  She  had  opened  a  vein  with  a  knitting- 
needle,  no  doubt  to  prolong  the  life  of  her  child,  and 
had  died  of  weakness,  as  already  said.  The  doctor 
judged  she  had  been  dead  but  a  few  hours.  She 
seemed,  like  the  man,  a  total  stranger  to  the  village, 
neither  the  doctor  nor  the  judge  nor  the  count  could 
recall  having  ever  seen  her. 

Near  the  head  of  the  women  and  against  the  wall 
was  a  broken  chair  covered  with  a  petticoat.  The 
judge  moved  the  chair  and  it  was  then  seen  that  it 
had  been  placed  there  to  hide  a  hole  made  at  the 


208          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

base  of  the  wall.  This  hole  was  large  enough  for  ;i 
person  to  pass  through  it,  but  it  stopped  at  a  depth 
of  four  feet.  Examination  being  made  of  this  hole,  it 
proved  to  have  been  hollowed  by  the  use  of  a  wooden 
instrument  that  the  Sicilian  women  call  a  mazzarello ; 
it  is  the  same  that  our  women  slip  through  their 
belts  to  hold  their  knitting-needles.  They  also 
found  beneath  the  mattress  —  such  is  the  power  of  the 
will,  the  strength  of  despair  —  several  large  stones 
from  the  foundation  of  the  wall,  which  must  have 
been  wrenched  bv  this  woman  with  no  assistance  other 
than  her  hands  and  that  frail  tool.  The  earth,  as 
well  as  the  stones,  had  been  covered  by  the  mattress, 
no  doubt  to  conceal  them  from  whoever  watched 
these  prisoners. 

The  examination  went  on.  In  a  depression  of  the 
wall  a  bottle  was  found  in  which  there  had  been  oil ; 
a  jug  in  which  there  had  been  water,  an  extinguished 
lamp,  and  a  tin  cup.  Another  depression  in  the  wall 
was  blackened  and  calcined,  showing  that  fire  must 
have  been  lighted  several  times,  although  there  was 
no  vent  at  all  by  which  the  smoke  could  escape. 

A  table  stood  in  the  middle  of  this  cellar.  The 
judge,  as  he  placed  himself  at  it  to  write,  noticed  a 
second  tin  cup,  in  which  was  a  black  liquid  ;  near 
this  cup  was  a  pen,  and  on  the  ground  three  or  four 
sheets  of  paper.  It  was  then  seen  that  these  sheets 
were  covered  with  very  small,  fine  writing,  ill-spelt, 
but  legible.  Search  was  instantly  made  for  other 

O  * 

pieces  of  paper,  and  two  were  found  in  the  straw 
that  lay  beneath  the  body  of  the  man.  These  sheets 
of  paper  did  not  seem  to  have  Ix-cn  hidden  intention- 


THE  SPERONARA  209 

ally,  but  rather  to  have  fallen  accidentally  from  the 
table  and  been  scattered  bv  the  feet.  As  the  pages 
were  numbered  they  could  be  put  together  and  read 
consecutively.  The  judge  read  them  aloud,  and 
here  is  what  he  read : 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Spirit,  so  be  it : 

I  write  these  lines  in  the  hope  that  they  may  fall 
into  the  hands  of  some  charitable  person.  Whoever 
that  person  may  be,  we  implore  him  in  the  name  of 
all  that  he  holds  most  dear  in  this  world  and  the 
next,  to  take  us  out  of  the  tomb  in  which  we  have 
been  shut  up,  my  husband,  my  child,  and  myself,  for 
several  years,  without  having  deserved  in  any  way 
this  awful  punishment. 

My  name  is  Teresa  Lentini.  I  was  born  at  Taor- 
mina  ;  I  must  now  be  twenty-eight  or  twenty-nine 
years  old.  Since  the  moment  when  we  were  shut  up 
in  this  cellar  where  I  now  write,  I  have  been  unable 
to  count  hours  or  separate  day  from  night;  I  have 
had  no  measure  for  time.  We  have  been  here  a 
very  long  time;  that  is  all  I  know. 

I  was  at  Catania,  in  the  household  of  the  Marchese 
di  San  Floridio,  where  I  was  foster-sister  to  the 
young  Contessa  Lucia.  The  young  countess  died 
in,  I  think,  1798  ;  but  the  marchesa,  whom  I  re- 
minded of  her  dearly  beloved  daughter,  wished  to 
keep  me  near  her.  bhe  died  too,  that  good  and 
worthy  marchesa ;  God  keep  her  soul ;  she  was 
beloved  bv  every  one. 

I  then  wished  to  go  back  to  my  mother,  but  the 
II- 


210          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

Marchcse  di  San  Floridio  would  not  permit  it.  He 
had  with  him,  as  steward,  a  man  whose  ancestors 
had  been  in  the  service  of  his  own  ancestors  during 
five  or  six  generations;  this  man  knew  all  about  his 
property  and  all  his  secrets,  —  a  mail,  in  short,  in 
whom  he  had  the  greatest  confidence.  His  name 
was  Gaetano  Cantarello.  The  marquis  was  resolved 
to  marry  me  to  this  man,  that  we  might  both,  he 
said,  remain  with  him  until  his  death. 

Cantarello  was  a  man  about  twenty -eight  to  thirty 
years  of  age;  handsome,  but  with  rather  a  hard 
face.  There  was  nothing  to  say  against  him  ;  he 
seemed  an  honest  man ;  he  was  neither  a  gambler 
nor  dissolute.  He  had  inherited  from  his  father  and 
received  from  the  kindness  of  the  marquis  a  con- 
siderable sum  for  a  man  in  his  position;  it  was 
therefore  a  good  match  for  me,  considering  my 
poverty.  But  when  the  marquis  spoke  to  me  of 
this  project  I  trembled,  in  spite  of  myself,  and  wept. 
There  was  something  in  the  frowning  eyebrows  of 
that  man,  in  the  savage  expression  of  his  eyes,  in 
the  harsh  tones  of  his  voice,  that  frightened  me 
instinctively.  It  is  true,  I  heard  all  my  companions 
say  how  lucky  I  was  to  be  loved  by  Cantarello,  and 
that  Cantarello  was  the  handsomest  man  in  Messina. 
I  asked  myself  within  me  whether  or  not  I  was  cra/y 
to  judge  my  betrothed  in  this  way.  I  blamed  my- 
self for  being  unjust  to  that  poor  Cantarello,  but  all 
the  same,  I  not  only  had  an  instinctive  repulsion  for 
him,  but  I  did  not  conceal  from  myself  that  I  had 
just  the  opposite  sentiment  for  a  young  vine-dresser 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Paterno,  named  Luigi  Pol- 


THE  SPERONARA  211 

lino,  who  was  my  cousin.  We  had  loved  each  other 
as  friends  from  childhood  and  we  could  not  have 
told,  ourselves,  at  what  time  friendship  had  changed 
to  love. 

Our  despair,  his  and  mine,  was  great  when  the 
marquis  made  known  his  projects  about  Cantarello 
and  me,  —  all  the  greater  because  my  mother,  who 
saw  in  this  marriage  a  rise  I  could  never  have  hoped 
to  make,  abandoned  entirely  the  interests  of  poor 
Luigi  to  take  up  those  of  the  rich  steward,  and 
ordered  me  to  renounce  my  cousin  and  think  of  no 
one  in  future  but  his  rival. 

This  happened  at  the  beginning  of  the  year  1783; 
the  marriage  day  was  fixed  for  March  15th,  when 
the  5th  of  February,  that  day  of  terrible  memories, 
arrived.  All  the  preceding  day,  the  4th,  the  sirocco 
had  blown,  so  that  every  one  was  stupid  with  the 
torpor  which  that  wind  brings  with  it.  The  Marchese 
di  San  Floridio  was  held  fast  by  the  gout  in  his 
apartment,  where  he  was  lying  on  a  cliuise  longue. 
I  was  sitting  in  the  next  room  so  as  to  run  to  him 
at  his  first  call  if  by  chance  he  needed  anvthing, 
when  suddenly  a  strange  sound  hurtled  through  the 
air,  and  the  palace  began  to  rock  like  a  vessel  at  sea. 
Presently  the  wall  between  my  room  and  that  of  the 
marquis  was  split  apart  wide  enough  to  pass  a  hand 
through  it,  while  the  parallel  wall  crumbled  down 
and  the  ceiling,  being  without  support  on  that  side, 
came  down  to  the  floor.  I  threw  myself  to  the 
opposite  side  to  avoid  the  crush,  and  I  was  thus 
caught  as  it  were  under  a  roof.  At  the  same  moment 
I  heard  a  loud  crv  from  the  marquis's  bed-chamber. 


212          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

I  was  close  to  the  fissure  made  in  the  wall ;  I  applied 
my  eye  to  it.  A  falling  beam  had  struck  the  mar- 
quis on  the  head  and  he  had  rolled  from  his  chair  to 
the  floor  quite  bewildered.  I  was  about  to  run  to 
his  assistance  when  I  saw  Cantarello  enter  the 
chamber  through  the  door  that  was  opposite  to  me. 
At  the  sight  of  his  unconscious  master,  Cantarello's 
face  assumed  such  a  strange  expression  that  I  shud- 
dered with  terror.  He  looked  all  about  him  to  see 
if  he  was  alone  ;  then,  certain  that  no  one  was  there 
he  sprang  upon  his  master  ;  I  thought  at  first  he 
meant  to  succour  him,  but  I  was  soon  undeceived. 
He  detached  the  rope-belt  that  fastened  the  marquis's 
dressing-gown  and  wound  it  round  his  neck  ;  then 
pressing  his  knee  against  his  master's  chest  he 
strangled  him.  In  his  death-throes  the  marquis 
opened  his  eves,  and  no  doubt  recognized  his  mur- 
derer, for  he  held  out  to  him  his  clasped  hands.  I 
gave  an  involuntary  cry.  Cantarello  raised  his  head. 
"Is  any  one  there?"  he  asked  in  a  terrible  voice. 
It  was  then  that  I  saw  in  their  full  expression  of 
ferocity  those  frowning  eyebrows,  that  look  which 
had  always,  even  when  his  face  was  calm,  so  terrified 
me.  Trembling  and  nearly  dead  with  fear,  I  kept 
silence  and  sank  down  upon  the  floor.  Presently, 
as  no  one  came,  I  rose,  and  applied  my  eyes  once 
more  to  the  crack ;  for  I  forgot  the  danger  I  ran 
in  remaining  in  a  palace  that  might  crumble  to 
pieces  at  any  moment,  so  grasped  and  fascinated  was 
I  by  the  dreadful  scene  that  was  passing  before  mv 
eves.  The  marquis  lav  upon  the  floor  without  move- 
ment and  evidently  dead.  Cantarello  was  standing 


THE   SPERONARA  213 

before  a  secretary,  which  all  of  us  knew  to  be  full 
of  gold  and  bank-notes,  for  never  was  the  key  left  in 
it,  and  we  knew  that  the  marquis  carried  that  key 
upon  his  person.  Cantarello  took  gold  and  bank- 
notes by  the  handfuls  and  thrust  them  into  the 
pockets  of  his  clothing  ;  then,  when  he  had  taken  all, 
he  pulled  from  the  marquis's  bed  the  corn-stalk 
mattress,  tipped  the  secretary  over  upon  the  mat- 
tress, heaped  the  chairs  on  the  secretary,  and  put- 
ting a  brand  from  the  stove  to  the  pile,  he  set  fire 
to  it.  Then,  as  soon  as  he  saw  flames  beginning 
to  rise,  he  rushed  through  the  door  by  which  he  had 
entered. 

As  this  is  a  deadly  accusation,  which  I  bring 
against  a  human  being,  I  swear  before  God  and  before 
men  that  my  tale  is  true  ;  and  that  I  neither  add  to 
nor  withhold  any  of  the  facts  that  passed  before  my 
sight. 

The  marquis  was  dead  ;  the  flames  were  making 
frightful  progress;  shocks  still  shook  the  palace  so 
that  it  seemed  at  every  instant  as  if  it  must  come 
down.  The  instinct  of  self-preservation  then  awoke 
in  me ;  I  dragged  myself  out  of  the  wreck  and 
rubbish  that  surrounded  me  on  all  sides  ;  I  reached 
a  staircase  and  went  down  it  like  one  in  a  dream, 
not  treading  on  the  steps.  Behind  me  the  stairs 
were  engulfed.  In  the  vestibule  I  suddenly  came 
face  to  face  with  Cantarello.  I  uttered  a  crv,  he 
tried  to  take  me  under  the  arm  and  lead  me  awav, 
but  I  sprang  into  the  street  crying  for  help.  The 
streets  were  full  of  flving  persons  ;  I  mingled  with 
the  crowd  ;  I  was  lost  in  its  flood,  which  pushed  me 


214          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

before  it  and  with  it  to  the  great  square.  I  had 
lost  Cantarello  from  -sight,  and  that  was  all  I  cared 
for  at  the  moment.  The  day  went  by  in  dreadful 
fears,  then  night  came.  Most  of  the  houses  in 
Messina  were  in  flames :  the  conflagration  lighted 
the  streets  and  squares  like  a  lurid  and  terrifying 
day.  Still,  .a  little  tranquillity  seemed  to  come  with 
the  night ;  the  dead  were  reckoned  by  their  absence  ; 
the  living  were  searched  for;  whoever  had  father, 
mother,  brother,  or  friend,  called  them  bv  name.  I 
had  no  one ;  mv  mother  lived  at  Taormina.  I  was 
sitting  in  silence,  my  head  on  my  knees,  and  seeing 
over  and  over  again  ceaselessly  the  horrible  deed  I 
had  witnessed  the  day  before,  when  all  of  a  sudden  I 
heard  my  name  called  in  tones  of  unspeakable  dread. 
I  raised  my  head  ;  I  saw  a  man  running  from  group 
to  group  like  a  madman.  It  was  Luigi.  I  rose,  and 
pronounced  his  name  ;  he  saw  me,  gave  a  cry  of  joy, 
bounded  towards  me,  took  me  in  his  arms,  and  bore 
me  awav  like  an  infant.  I  let  him  do  it;  I  flung 
my  arms  about  his  neck  and  closed  my  eyes.  All 
around  us  I  heard  cries  of  terror;  through  my  eye- 
lids I  saw  red  gleams  ;  at  times  I  felt  the  heat  of 
flames.  At  last,  after  perhaps  half  an  hour,  the 
pace  at  which  we  were  going  slackened,  then  it 
stopped.  I  opened  my  eyes ;  we  were  out  of  the 
town ;  Luigi,  worn  out  with  fatigue,  had  dropped  on 
one  knee  and  was  supporting  me  against  the  other. 
On  the  hori/on,  Messina  was  burning  and  crumbling 
down  with  mighty  moans.  I  was  saved,  I  was  in  my 
Luigi's  arms,  I  was  out  of  the  power  of  that  infamous 
Cantarello,  —  I  thought  so  at  least. 


THE   SPERONARA  215 

I  rose  eagerly.  "  I  can  walk,"  I  said  to  Luigi. 
"  Let  us  flee,  let  us  flee  !  " 

Luigi  had  recovered  breath ;  he  was  as  ardent  to 
carry  me  off'  as  I  to  go ;  he  passed  his  arm  around  my 
body,  and  we  resumed  our  course.  On  reaching 
Contessi,  we  saw  a  man  who  was  driving  from  the 
half-destroyed  village  five  or  six  mules.  Luigi  went 
to  him  and  proposed  to  buy  one  of  them  which  was 
all  saddled ;  the  price  was  settled  in  an  instant. 
The  mule  paid  for,  Luigi  mounted  it  and  I  sprang 
up  behind  him.  By  daylight  we  reached  Taormina. 
I  ran  to  my  mother's  house  ;  she  had  thought  me 
dead,  poor  woman  !  I  told  her  that  the  marquis  was 
dead,  the  palace  burned  ;  I  told  her,  too,  that  I  should 
have  died  twenty  times  over  but  for  Ltiigi  ;  I  threw 
myself  at  her  feet,  and  swore  that  I  would  rather  die 
than  belong  to  Contarello. 

She  loved  me ;  she  yielded.  Luigi  entered  ;  she 
called  him  her  son,  and  it  was  agreed  that  on  the 
morrow  I  should  become  his  wife.  That  which 
made  her  the  more  willing  was  that  I  had  lost  every- 
thing by  the  death  of  the  marquis.  The  position  I 
occupied  in  his  household  was  above  that  of  ordinary 
servants ;  therefore  I  had  no  fixed  salary.  From 
time  to  time  the  marquis  made  me  gifts  of  money, 
which  I  sent  at  once  to  my  mother.  Besides  this, 
as  I  have  said,  he  promised  to  give  me  a  dowry. 
This  dowry,  I  knew,  was  to  be  10,000  ducats,  but 
no  writing  secured  it  and  the  marquis  had  made  no 
will ;  the  money,  though  pledged,  was  not  a  debt. 
The  family  were  ignorant  of  the  promise,  and  not 
for  the  world  would  I  have  tried  to  claim  it  as  a 


216          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

right.  I  had,  therefore,  really  lost  all  by  the  death 
of  the  marquis,  and  my  mother,  who  had  so  obsti- 
nately refused  to  marry  me  to  Luigi  was  now,  I 
think,  glad  at  the  bottom  of  her  soul  that  his  feel- 
ings for  me  had  not  changed,  as  might  well  have 
been  the  case  with  Cantarello.  Besides,  she  really 
loved  me  ;  she  had  seen  my  distaste  for  the  latter 
change  into  insurmountable  aversion,  and  now  heard 
me  swear  in  tones  of  truth  that  I  would  die  sooner 
than  belong  to  that  man.  Had  Cantarello  been 
there  to  claim  me,  she  would,  I  think,  have  left  me 
free  to  choose  between  him  and  his  rival. 

The  day  went  by  in  attending  on  both  sides  to 
the  duties  of  religion.  The  priest  was  asked  to  be 
ready  the  next  morning  at  ten  o'clock  ;  our  relations 
and  friends  were  notified  that  we  should  receive  the 
nuptial  benediction  at  that  hour.  As  for  Luigi,  he 
had  long  had  neither  father  nor  mother,  and  no 
relations  near  enough  to  make  it  a  duty  to  notify 
them. 

These  were  sad  auspices  for  a  marriage.  Though 
the  earthquake  was  less  felt  at  Taormina,  built  as 
it  is  upon  a  rock,  than  at  Messina  and  Catania,  the 
town  had  not  been  exempt  from  shocks,  which  might 
at  any  moment  become  violent.  Hut  God  kept  us 
safe  for  this  time,  and  daylight  dawned  without 
serious  accident.  Ten  o'clock  struck,  and  we  went 
to  the  church  accompanied  by  nearly  the  whole 
village.  On  entering,  I  fancied  I  saw  a  man  hiding 
behind  a  pillar  in  the  darkest  corner  of  the  church. 
Simple  and  natural  as  the  presence  of  inquisitive 
persons  was,  my  eyes,  whether  from  instinct  or  pie- 


THE  SPERONARA  217 

sentiment  could  not  detach  themselves  from  that 
figure. 

The  mass  began  ;  but  just  as  we  knelt  before  the 
altar  the  man  came  out  from  behind  the  column, 
advanced  towards  us,  and  placing  himself  between 
the  priest  and  me,  said  : 

"  This  marriage  cannot  go  on.1" 

"Cantarello  !"  cried  Luigi,  putting  his  hand  in 
his  pocket  to  get  out  his  knife.  I  seized  his  arm 
forcibly,  though  I  felt  that  I  turned  pale  myself. 

"  Do  not  disturb  a  divine  ceremony,"  said  the 
priest. 

"  This  marriage  cannot  go  on,1"  repeated  Cantarello, 
in  a  louder  and  more  imperious  voice  than  before. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  the  priest. 

"  Because  this  woman  is  my  wife,"  replied  Can- 
tarello, pointing  his  finger  at  me. 

"  I  !  the  wife  of  that  man  !  "  I  exclaimed  ;  "  he  is 
mad.'1'' 

"It  is  you,  Teresa,  who  arc  mad,"  he  said,  coldly  ; 
"  or  rather  who  have  lost  your  memory.  Do  you 
not  remember  that  the  Marchese  di  San  Floridio  had 
long  betrothed  us  to  each  other,  and  that  on  the 
very  evening  before  the  earthquake  —  I  mean  on  the 
4th  at  midnight  —  we  were  married  in  his  chapel  with 
himself  as  witness,  married  by  his  own  chaplain?  " 

I  gave  a  cry  of  terror,  for  the  marquis  and  the 
chaplain  were  both  dead,  and  neither  could  bear 
testimony  on  my  behalf. 

"  Have  you  committed  this  sacrilege,  my  daugh- 
ter?"" asked  the  priest,  coming  towards  me  with  an 
air  of  doubt. 


218          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"Father!11  I  cried,  "by  all  that  is  mast  snored  in 
the  world  I  affirm  —  " 

"And  I,""  said  Cantarello,  stretching  his  hand 
towards  the  altar,  "  I  swear  — 

"  No  perjury  !  "  I  cried,  "  no  perjury  !  Have  you 
not  crimes  enough  already  for  which  you  must  render 
an  account  to  God?  " 

Cantarello  quivered  and  looked  at  me  fixedly  as  if 
he  wished  to  read  to  the  bottom  of  my  soul;  but 
this  time,  instead  of  terrifying  me,  his  glance  gave 
me  fresh  strength,  for  in  it  I  saw  an  appearance  of 
terror.  I  profited  by  that  moment  of  fear. 

"  rather,11  I  said  to  the  priest,  "  this  man  is  a 
poor  mad  creature  who  has  loved  me  ;  I  can  attribute 
the  crime  he  has  attempted  here  to-day  only  to  the 
excess  of  his  love.  Let  me  speak  to  him,  I  beg  of 
you,  in  a  low  voice,  near  the  altar,  but  in  presence 
of  you  all ;  and  I  hope  to  make  him  repent  and  own 
the  truth."1 

Cantarello  burst  out  laughing. 

*'  The  truth  ! 11  he  cried,  "  I  have  told  it ;  there  is 
no  power  on  earth  that  can  make  me  say  otherwise.11 

"  Silence!  "  I  answered,  "  and  follow  me.11 

God  gave  me  a  mysterious,  unheard-of  strength,  of 
which  I  should  never  have  supposed  myself  capable. 
The  priest  came  down  from  the  altar.  I  signed  to 
Cantarello  to  follow  me;  he  did  so.  All  present 
formed  a  wide  semicircle  around  us  ;  Luigi  alone 
stood  forward,  his  hand  on  his  knife  and  never  taking 
his  eyes  from  us. 

"Teresa,"  said  Cantarello,  in  a  low  voice  and 
speaking  first,  as  if  he  feared  what  I  might  say, 


THE   SPERONARA  219 

"  why  have  you  broken  the  promise  you  gave  to 
the  Marchese  di  San  Floridio  ?  Why  do  you  force 
me  to  have  recourse  to  these  means  ?  " 

"  Because,"  I  answered,  looking  fixedly  at  him, 
"  I  do  not  choose  to  be  the  wife  of  a  thief  and 
a  murderer."" 

Cantarello  turned  pale  as  death ;  but  with  that 
exception  nothing  showed  that  the  blow  I  had  given 
him  struck  home. 

"  Thief  and  murderer  ! "  he  repeated  laughing  ; 
"you  will  explain  to  me  those  words,  I  hope." 

"  I  have  but  one  explanation  to  give  you  :  I  was 
in  the  next  room  and  I  saw  all  through  a  crack 
in  the  wall." 

"  What  did  you  see  ?  "  asked  Cantarello. 

"  I  saw  you  enter  the  chamber  of  the  marquis 
at  the  moment  when  he  was  struck  by  the  beam  ; 
I  saw  you  rush  upon  him  ;  I  saw  you  strangle  him 
with  the  rope  of  his  dressing-gown  ;  I  saw  you 
force  open  the  secretary,  and  take  everything  — 
gold  and  bank-notes  ;  then  I  saw  you  pull  the  straw 
mattress  from  the  bed,  overturn  the  secretary,  chairs, 
and  sofa  upon  it,  and  set  fire  to  the  pile  with  a 
brand  from  the  stove.  It  was  I  who  uttered  the 
cry  that  made  you  raise  your  head  ;  and  when  you 
met  me  below  in  the  vestibule  and  I  fled  you,  you 
thought  I  was  pale  with  terror,  did  you  not  ?  No, 
it  was  horror." 

u  Your  story  is  not  ill-imagined,''''  said  Cantarello. 
"  No  doubt  you  hope  it  will  be  believed." 

"  Yes  ;  for  it  is  not  a  bile,  but  a  terrible  reality.'1'1 

"  What  proof  have  you  ?  " 


220          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"Proof?" 

"  Yes ;  you  must  give  proofs.  The  palace  is 
burned,  the  body  is  consumed,  the  secretary  that 
contained  this  imaginary  gold  and  bank-notes  is  in 
ashes.  Yes  the  proof!  what  proof  have  you?" 

Doubtless  God  inspired  me. 

"  Then  you  do  not  know  what  happened  ?  " 

"  What  happened  ?  " 

"After  your  departure,  after  you  had  quitted 
the  town  to  hide  your  stolen  money  in  some  secure 
retreat,  the  servants  of  the  marquis  assembled  and 
in  a  tranquil  moment  they  went  up  to  his  room. 
The  body  was  found  intact,  brought  down  to  the 
chapel,  and  the  marks  of  strangulation  were  plainly 
seen  around  the  neck.  The  secretary  is  in  ashes, 
yes ;  the  bank-notes  are  burned,  yes ;  but  gold 
neither  melts  nor  burns.  The  servants  know  that 
that  secretary  was  full  of  gold ;  they  will  search 
for  the  rolls  of  it;  they  will  not  find  them;  then 
I  shall  tell  them  where  they  can  be  found,  and  when 
the  cellars  and  gardens  of  your  house  in  Catania  are 
thoroughly  searched  they  will  be  found." 

Cantarello  uttered  a  sort  of  low  growl  that  I  alone 
could  hear ;  I  saw  that  he  hesitated  whether  to  stab  me 
on  the  spot  or  not,  at  the  risk  of  what  might  result. 

"  If  vou  make  a  movement,"  I  said,  recoiling  a 
step,  "I  will  call  for  help,  and  you  are  lost.  See." 

It  was  as  I  said;  Luigi  and  three  young  men, 
our  relations,  stood  ready  to  rush  upon  Cantarello 
at  the  first  sign  I  made  them.  Cantarello  gave 
a  side  glance  at  them,  saw  their  hostile  intentions, 
and  seemed  to  reflect  a  moment. 


THE  SPERONARA  221 

"And  if  I  withdraw,  if  I  quit  Sicily,  if  I  leave 
you  to  be  happy  with  your  Luigi, —  what  then?  " 

"Then  I  will  hold  my  tongue." 

"  What  assures  me  of  that  ?  " 

"  My  oath." 

"  And  your  husband,  will  he  know  what  hap- 
pened ?  " 

"  Not  so  long  as  you  leave  us  in  peace,  and  do 
nothing  to  trouble  us." 

"  Then  swear." 

I  extended  my  hand  to  the  altar. 

"O  my  God!"  I  said  in  a  low  voice,  "receive 
the  oath  that  I  make  to  never  tell  to  living  soul 
what  I  saw  at  the  palazzo  San  Floridio  during  the 
day  of  the  5th.  Hear  the  oath  that  I  make  to 
the  murderer  and  thief  to  conceal  his  crime  from 
all  the  world  as  though  I  were  his  accomplice,  and 
never,  directly  or  indirectly,  reveal  it  to  any  one." 

"  Even  in  confession  ?  " 

"  Not  even  in  confession  ;  unless,"  I  added,  "  lie 
himself  releases  me  from  this  oath  by  attempting 
some  further  persecution." 

"  Swear  by  the  blood  of  Christ." 

"  By  the  blood  of  Christ,  I  swear  it." 

"  Father,"  said  Cantarello,  going  down  the  steps 
of  the  altar  and  addressing  the  priest,  "  I  am  a  poor 
sinner;  forgive  me  and  pray  for  me.  I  lied;  this 
woman  is  free." 

Then,  having  said  these  words  in  a  tone  that 
seemed  as  if  repentance  alone  had  brought  them 
from  his  lips,  Cantarello  passed  the  group  of  young 
men,  Luigi  and  he  exchanging  looks,  the  one  of 


JOURNEYS  WITH  DUMAS 

disdain,  the  other  of  menace,  and  with  firm  step, 
wrapping  himself  in  his  cloak,  he  reached  the  door 
of  the  church  and  disappeared. 

The  marriage  ceremony,  so  strangely  and  unex- 
pectedly interrupted,  was  completed  without  further 
incident.  On  our  return  to  the  house  Luigi  asked 
me  what  had  passed  between  Cantarello  and  myself; 
and  what  power  I  had  over  him  to  make  him  obey 
me  as  he  did.  I  answered  that,  as  he  must  have 
seen,  I  had  made  an  oath,  and  that  oath  was  to 
keep  total  silence.  Luigi  did  not  insist ;  he  knew 
that  no  entreaties  could  make  me  break  a  promise 
thus  solemnly  made,  and  I  never  perceived  that 
he  had  any  unpleasant  recollection  of  my  refusal. 

We  went  to  live  in  Luigfs  house.  It  was  a  pretty 
little  house,  standing  alone  in  a  vincvard  a  couple  of 
miles  from  Paterno,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Gravitta, 
on  the  road  to  Centorbi.  As  for  Cantarello,  he  had 
left  Sicily,  so  they  said,  and  no  one  had  seen  him 
since  the  moment  when  he  quitted  the  church  at 
Taormina.  Nothing  had  transpired  in  regard  to  the 
murder  or  the  theft,  and  no  suspicion  existed  that 
the  Marchese  di  San  Floridio  was  not  killed  accident- 
ally. For  three  years  Luigi  and  I  were  the  happiest 
creatures  upon  earth  :  our  only  grief  was  the  loss  of 
our  first  child.  But  God  soon  after  sent  us  a  second, 
full  of  vigour  and  health,  and  we  began  to  forget  our 
first  loss  however  sorrowful  it  was.  Our  child  was 
put  out  to  nurse  at  Feminamorta,  a  little  village 
about  six  miles  from  our  house,  and  every  Sunday 
we  went  to  see  it,  or  else  its  nurse  brought  it  to 


THE   SPERONARA  223 

One  night  —  it  was  the  night  of  December  2d  and 
3d,  1787  —  some  one  rapped  violently  on  our  door. 
Luigi  rose  to  ask  who  it  was.  "  Open,"  said  a  voice, 
"  I  come  from  Feminamorta ;  sent  by  the  nurse  of 
your  child." 

I  gave  a  cry  of  terror,  for  a  messenger  sent  at  that 
hour  boded  no  good.  Luigi  opened  the  door.  A 
man  in  peasant's  dress  stood  by  it. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Luigi ;  "  is  our  child  ill  ?  " 

"  It  was  taken  with  convulsions  at  five  o'clock,*1 
said  the  peasant,  "  and  the  nurse  sends  you  word  that 
if  you  do  not  make  haste  and  come  she  is  afraid  the 
poor  innocent  will  die  before  you  can  have  the  com- 
fort of  kissing  it." 

"  A  doctor  ! "  I  cried,  "  a  doctor  !  can  we  not  fetch 
one  from  Paterno  ?  " 

"  Useless,"  replied  the  peasant,  "  it  would  only 
delay  you,  and  the  village  doctor  is  with  the 
child." 

Then,  as  if  hurried  himself,  he  started  back  along 
the  road  to  Feminamorta  at  a  run. 

"  If  you  get  there  before  us,"  Luigi  called  after 
him,  "  say  that  we  are  following  you." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  peasant  from  a  distance. 

We  dressed  in  haste,  weeping ;  then,  locking  the 
door  behind  us,  we  started  for  Feminamorta ;  but, 
half-way  there,  as  we  were  passing  a  spot  narrowed 
by  rocks  on  both  sides,  four  masked  men  sprang 
upon  us,  knocked  us  down,  bound  our  hands  and  legs, 
and  put  a  gag  in  our  mouths  and  a  bandage  on  our 
eyes.  Then,  calling  up  a  litter  borne  on  the  backs  of 
mules,  they  made  us  get  into  it,  Luigi  and  me,  locked 


224  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

the  door  with  a  key,  and  started  off  along  the  high- 
way, the  mules  going  at  a  fast  trot.  We  went  on 
thus  for  four  or  five  hours;  then  we  stopped;  an 
instant  later  the  door  of  the  litter  opened  and  we 
felt,  from  the  eold  dampness  about  us,  that  we  must 
l>e  in  some  sort  of  grotto  ;  then  they  removed  our 

g^rs- 

"  Where  are  we  ?  and  where  are  you  taking  us  ?"  I 
a-sked  at  once,  and  so  did  Luigi. 

"  Eat  and  drink,11  said  a  voice  that  was  wholly 
unknown  to  us,  while  some  one  loosed  our  hands, 
leaving  our  legs  bound  ;  "  eat  and  drink,  and  con- 
cern yourselves  about  nothing  else.1'' 

I  tore  the  bandage  from  my  eyes.  As  I  had  sup- 
posed, we  were  in  a  cavern  ;  two  masked  men  were 
guarding  the  entrance,  pistol  in  hand,  while  the  two 
others  handed  us  wine  and  bread. 

Luigi  pushed  awav  the  wine  and  bread  when  offered 
to  him  and  made  an  attempt  to  undo  the  ro|>e  that 
bound  his  legs.  One  of  the  men  pointed  a  pistol  at 
his  breast. 

"  Another  movement,  and  you  are  a  dead  man,1' 
he  said. 

I  entreated  Luigi  to  make  no  resistance.  They 
offered  us  the  bread  and  wine  again. 

"  I  am  not  hungry  or  thirsty,""  said  Luigi. 

"  Nor  I,  either,"  I  added. 

"  As  you  please,11  said  the  man  who  had  already 
spoken,  "but  you  will  please  allow  us  to  bind  your 
hands,  gag  you,  and  blindfold  you,  as  before.1' 

"Do  what  you  like,"  I  said;  "we  arc  in  your 
power." 


THE  SPERONARA  225 

"  Infamous  wretches  ! "  muttered  Luigi. 

"  In  Heaven's  name,"  I  said  to  him,  "  make  no  re- 
sistance, Luigi  ;  don't  you  see  that  these  men  are 
not  wishing  to  kill  us.  Have  patience,  and  they  may 
have  pity  upon  us." 

To  this  hope,  which  I  uttered  in  tones  of  distress, 
a  man's  laugh  replied ;  but  that  laugh  made  me 
shudder  to  the  depths  of  my  soul.  I  recognized  it. 
I  had  already  heard  it  in  the  church  of  Taormina. 
Beyond  a  doubt  we  were  in  the  power  of  Cantarello, 
and  he  was  one  of  the  four  masked  men  who  escorted 
us.  I  held  out  my  hands  and  let  them  gag  me  sub- 
missively. Not  so  Luigi ;  a  struggle  took  place 
between  him  and  the  man  who  tried  to  gag  him; 
but  the  three  others  came  to  the  assistance  of  their 
companion,  and  Luigi  was  bound  and  gagged  by 
force ;  then  they  blindfolded  him  and  closed  the 
doors  and  curtains  of  the  litter  upon  us. 

I  cannot  say  how  many  hours  we  remained  thus ; 
it  is  impossible  to  measure  time  in  such  a  situation. 
It  is  probable  that  we  spent  the  day  in  the  grotto, 
our  captors  not  daring  to  march  except  by  night. 
I  do  not  know  what  Luigi  felt,  but  as  for  me,  I 
burned  with  fever  and  my  hunger  and  thirst  were 
extreme.  At  last  the  litter  was  again  opened.  This 
time  we  were  not  unbound ;  they  simply  took  the 
gags  from  our  mouths.  As  soon  &s  I  could  speak 
I  asked  for  drink  ;  they  put  a  glass  to  my  lips. 
I  emptied  it  at  a  gulp,  and  then  they  re-gagged  me 
as  before. 

I  had  not  taken  time  to  taste  the  drink  they  had 
given  me,  which  was  like  wine,  though  it  had  a 

1$ 


226          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

curious  taste  that  I  did  not  know ;  but  whatever  the 
liquor  was  it  refreshed  me ;  moreover,  I  presently 
felt  a  calmness  that  I  should  have  thought  impos- 
sible in  a  situation  like  mine.  This  calmness  was 
not  without  a  certain  charm.  I  believed  I  saw, 
although  my  eyes  were  bandaged,  luminous  phan- 
toms passing  before  me  and  saluting  me  with  gentle 
smiles.  Little  by  little  I  fell  into  a  state  of  apathv 
that  was  neither  sleeping  nor  waking.  I  fancied  that 
airs,  forgotten  since  my  youth,  were  murmuring  in 
my  ears  ;  from  time  to  time  I  beheld  bright  gleams 
crossing  like  flashes  of  lightning  the  darkness  of  the 
night ;  and  I  saw  rich  palaces  brilliantly  illuminated, 
and  beautiful  meadows  all  covered  with  flowers. 
Presentlv  I  felt  myself  taken  up  and  carried  into  a 
bower  of  oleanders  and  honeysuckle,  where  I  was 
laid  on  a  mossy  bank  and  saw  above  my  head  the 
beauteous  starry  sky.  Then  I  began  to  laugh  at 
the  fears  I  had  felt  when  I  thought  myself  a  pris- 
oner; I  saw  my  child,  who  ran  joyfully  up  to  me; 
only,  singular  thing !  it  was  not  the  living  child,  but 
the  dead  one.  I  took  him  in  my  arms  ;  I  questioned 
him  about  his  absence ;  he  told  me  that  one  morning 
he  awoke  with  angel's  wings  and  rose  towards  heaven  ; 
but  when  he  saw  me  weep  so  much  he  had  asked  God 
to  let  him  come  back  to  earth.  Finally,  all  these 
things  became,  little  by  little,  indistinct,  and  con- 
fused with  one  another ;  then  I  fell,  almost  without 
transition,  into  a  heavy,  deep,  dark,  dream  less  sleep. 

When  I  woke  we  were  in  the  cave  where  we  are 
to-day  ;  I  free,  Luigi  chained  to  the  wall.  A  table 
stood  between  us ;  on  this  table  was  a  lamp,  some 


THE  SPERONARA  227 

food,  wine,  water,  and  glasses ;  against  the  wall  the 
remains  of  a  fire  by  means  of  which  Luigi\s  chain 
had  been  riveted.  Luigi  was  sitting,  his  head  on 
his  two  knees,  plunged  in  such  deep  grief  that  I 
roused  myself,  rose,  and  went  to  him  without  his 
hearing  me.  A  sob,  which  escaped  my  breast  against 
my  will,  drew  him  from  his  dejection.  He  raised  his 
head  and  we  fell  into  each  other's  arms. 

It  was  the  first  time  since  our  abduction  that  we 
vcrc  able  to  exchange  our  thoughts.  Like  me, 
though  he  had  not  distinctly  recognized  Cantarello, 
lie  was  convinced  that  we  were  his  victims.  They 
had  given  him,  as  they  had  to  me,  a  narcotic  drink 
which  made  him  lose  all  sensation,  and  he  had  only 
just  wakened  when  I  woke  myself. 

The  first  day  we  could  not  eat.  Luigi  was  gloomy 
and  mute;  I  sat,  weeping,  beside  him.  After  a  time 
our  sorrow  softened  at  the  thought  that  we  were  still 
together.  At  last  the  need  for  food  came  so  violently 
that  we  ate ;  then  followed  sleep.  Life  went  on  for 
us,  without  liberty,  without  daylight.  Luigi  had  a 
watch.  During  our  journey  it  had  stopped  either  at 
midday  or  at  midnight ;  he  wound  it  up  ;  it  did  not 
tell  us  the  real  time,  but  at  least  it  gave  us  an  imagi- 
nary time  by  the  help  of  which  we  could  measure 
actual  time. 

We  had  been  sei/ed  and  carried  off  on  the  niirht 

o 

of  a  Tuesday  to  Wednesday.  We  calculated  that  we 
had  waked  up  on  Thursday  morning.  At  the  end 
of  twenty-four  hours  we  made  a  line  on  the  wall  with 
a  piece  of  the  charred  stone.  One  day  had  thus 
gone  by  ;  it  was  now  Friday.  Twenty-four  hours 


228          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

later  we  drew  another  line;  it  was  now  Saturday. 
At  the  end  of  the  same  time  we  drew  another  line, 
but  longer  than  the  first  two;  that  line  marked 
Sunday. 

We  spent  that  holy  day  of  our  Lord  in  prayer. 

Eight  days  went  by  thus.  At  the  end  of  those 
eight  days  we  heard  steps  that  seemed  to  be  coming 
down  a  long  corridor.  These  steps  came  nearer  and 
nearer ;  our  door  opened.  A  man  enveloped  in  a 
large  cloak  entered,  holding  a  lantern  in  his  hand ; 
it  was  Cantarello. 

I  held  Luigi  in  my  arms  ;  I  felt  him  tremble  with 
anger.  Cantarello  approached  us,  and  I  felt  Luigi's 
muscles  contract  and  distend  successively.  I  was 
certain  that  if  Cantarello  came  within  the  length 
of  the  chain  Luigi  would  bound  upon  him  like  a 
tiger  and  there  would  be  a  mortal  struggle  between 
the  two  men.  There  came  to  me  then  a  thought  I 
should  have  supposed  impossible  —  that  I  might  be 
more  wretched  than  I  really  was.  I  called  out  to 
him  to  come  no  nearer.  lie  comprehended  the  cause 
of  my  fear ;  without  replying  he  opened  his  cloak  and 
showed  me  that  he  was  armed.  Two  pistols  were  in 
his  belt  and  a  sword  hung  at  his  side. 

He  placed  upon  the  table  fresh  provisions  ;  these, 
like  the  first,  consisted  of  bread,  smoked  meats, 
wine,  water,  and  oil.  The  oil  was  especially  precious 
to  us  ;  it  was  light  for  our  lamp.  I  knew  now  that 
light  was  one  of  the  first  needs  of  man. 

Cantarello  went  out  and  closed  the  door  without 
any  other  words  having  passed  but  those  I  had  said 
to  prevent  him  from  approaching  Luigi,  and  without 


THE  SPERONARA  229 

his  making  any  sign  beyond  the  gesture  that  showed 
me  he  was  armed.  It  was  then  that,  feeling  certain 
I  was  released  from  my  oath,  I  for  the  first  time 
told  all  to  Luigi.  When  I  had  finished  speaking  he 
sighed  deeply. 

"  lie  means  to  make  sure  of  our  silence,""  he  said. 
"  We  are  here  for  the  rest  of  our  lives.1" 

A  burst  of  laughter  came  from  behind  the  door. 
Cantarello  had  stopped  there ;  he  had  listened  and 
heard  all.  We  knew  then  that  we  had  no  hope  but 
in  God  and  in  ourselves. 

We  began,  after  this,  to  make  a  careful  inspection 
of  our  dungeon.  It  is  a  species  of  cellar  ten  feet 
wide  and  twelve  feet  long,  with  no  other  issue  than 
the  door.  We  sounded  the  walls ;  they  seemed  to 
us  solid.  I  went  to  the  door  and  examined  it ;  it 
was  of  oak  and  secured  by  two  locks.  There  was 
little  chance  of  escape,  and  besides,  Luigi  was 
chained  round  the  waist  and  by  one  foot. 

Nevertheless,  for  nearly  a  year  hope  never  aban- 
doned us  altogether ;  for  that  whole  year  we  meditated 
on  every  possible  means  of  escape.  Every  week, 
punctually,  Cantarello  brought  us  our  weekly  pro- 
visions. Strange  !  little  by  little  we  grew  so  ac- 
customed to  his  visit  that,  whether  from  resignation 
or  from  the  need  of  an  instant's  relief  to  our  solitude, 
we  ended  by  looking  forward  to  his  coming  with  a 
sort  of  impatience.  Besides,  hope,  which  can  never 
be  extinguished,  made  us  always  believe  that  Can- 
tarello at  his  next  visit  would  have  pity  on  us.  Hut 
time  went  by  ;  Cantarello  reappeared  with  the  same 
impassible  and  sombre  face,  and  went  away  usually 


230          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

without  exchanging  with  us  a  single  word.  We 
continued  to  mark  our  days  upon  the  wall. 

A  second  year  went  by.  Our  existence  became 
wholly  mechanical ;  we  remained  whole  hours  stupe- 
fied, and,  like  animals,  we  only  issued  from  this 
stupefaction  when  the  need  to  eat  or  drink  roused 
us  from  our  torpor.  The  sole  thing  that  seriously 
occupied  our  minds  was  care  that  our  lamp  should 
not  go  out  and  we  be  left  in  darkness  ;  all  else  was 
indifferent  to  us. 

One  day,  instead  of  winding  up  his  watch,  Luigi 
broke  it  against  the  wall  ;  from  that  day  we  ceased 
to  measure  hours,  time  no  longer  existed  for  us,  it 
had  dropped  into  eternity. 

Nevertheless,  as  I  had  noticed  that  Cantarello 
came  regularly  every  eight  days,  I  made  a  mark  upon 
the  wall  each  time  he  came,  and  that  replaced  in 
some  degree  our  watch ;  but  I,  too,  wearied  of  this 
useless  count,  and  after  a  while  I  ceased  to  mark  our 
gaoler's  visits. 

An  indefinite  time  elapsed  ;  it  lasted  several  years. 
I  became  pregnant. 

This  was  a  very  joyous  and  very  painful  feeling 
both.  To  become  a  mother  in  a  dungeon  ;  to  give 
life  to  a  human  being  without  giving  it  light  as  well; 
to  see  the  child  of  one's  womb,  a  poor  innocent 
creature  not  born  as  yet,  condemned  to  a  torture 
that  was  killing  us  ! 

For  our  child's  sake  we  returned  to  God,  whom 
we  had  almost  forgotten.  We  had  prayed  to  him 
so  long  for  ourselves  and  he  had  not  answered,  that 
we  had  come  to  believe  he  did  not  hear  us  ;  but  now 


THE   SPERONARA  231 

we  prayed  to  him  for  our  child,  and  it  seemed  to  us 
that  our  voice  must  pierce  to  the  very  bowels  of  the 
earth. 

I  said  nothing  to  Can tarello.  I  was  afraid,  I  know 
not  why,  lest  this  news  might  inspire  him  with  some 
dark  design  against  us  or  against  our  child.  One 
day  he  found  me  sitting  on  my  bed  and  suckling  my 
child.  At  that  sight  he  quivered,  and  it  seemed  to 
me  that  his  harsh  face  softened.  I  threw  myself  at 
his  feet. 

"  Promise  me  that  my  child  shall  not  be  buried 
forever  in  this  dungeon,  and  I  will  forgive  you,"  I 
said  to  him. 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  then,  passing  his  hand 
over  his  forehead,  he  said,  "  I  promise  it." 

At  his  next  visit  he  brought  what  was  necessary  to 
clothe  my  child.  Meantime  I  was  fading  away 
visibly.  One  day  Can  tarello  looked  at  me  with  an 
expression  of  pity  I  had  never  before  seen  on  his 
face. 

"You  will  never,"  he  said,  "have  strength  to 
suckle  that  child." 

"  Ah  !  "  I  replied,  "  you  are  right ;  I  feel  that  I  am 
almost  extinct.  It  is  air  I  want." 

"  Will  you  come  out  with  me  ?  "  asked  Cantarello. 

"  Out !   and  leave  Luigi  and  my  child  ?  " 

"  They  will  stay  here  to  answer  for  your  silence." 

"  Never  !  "  I  said,  "  never  !  " 

Cantarello  took  up  in  silence  his  lantern  which  he 
had  placed  upon  the  table,  and  went  away. 

I  know  not  how  many  hours  we  remained  without 
speaking,  Luigi  and  I. 


232          JOURNEYS   WITH    DUMAS 

"You  did  wrong,""  said  Luigi  at  last. 

"  Why  should  I  go  out  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  You  could  have  seen  where  we  are  ;  you  would 
have  noticed  where  he  took  you  ;  you  might  have 
found  some  way  to  reveal  our  existence  and  obtain 
for  us  the  pity  of  men.  You  did  wrong,  I  tell 
you." 

"  Very  well,"  I  answered,  "  if  he  speaks  of  it  again 
I  will  go." 

And  we  dropped  back  into  our  habitual  silence. 

Eight  days  went  by.  Cantarello  appeared  ;  be- 
sides our  usual  provisions  he  brought  a  rather  large 
package. 

"  These  are  men's  clothes,"  he  said  ;  "  when  you 
decide  to  come  out,  put  them  on  ;  I  shall  know  what 
that  means  and  I  will  take  you  with  me." 

I  did  not  answer ;  but  at  his  next  coming  Can- 
tarello found  me  clothed  as  a  man. 

"  Come,"  he  said. 

"  One  moment,"  I  cried.  "  Will  you  swear  to 
bring  me  back  ?  " 

"  In  one  hour  you  will  be  here  again." 

"  I  follow  you." 

Cantarello  walked  before  me,  locked  the  first  door, 
and  I  saw  we  were  in  a  corridor.  In  this  corridor 
was  a  second  door,  which  he  opened  and  then  locked  ; 
we  mounted  ten  or  twelve  steps  and  came  face  to 
face  with  a  third  door.  Cantarello  turned  to  me, 
drew  a  handkerchief  from  his  pocket,  and  bandaged 
my  eves.  I  let  him  manage  me  like  a  child  ;  I  felt 
so  completely  in  that  man's  power  that  even  a  remark 
seemed  to  me  useless. 


THE   SPERONARA  233 

After  I  was  blindfolded  he  opened  the  third  door, 
and  I  knew  that  we  were  entering  another  at- 
mosphere. We  made  forty  steps  on  a  pavement, 
some  of  which  resounded  as  if  they  covered  cellars, 
and  I  judged  we  were  in  a  church.  Then  Cantarello 
let  go  my  hand  and  opened  another  door.  This 
time  I  felt  by  the  impression  of  the  air  that  we  were 
out  of  doors,  and  without  giving  time  for  Cantarello 
to  uncover  my  eyes,  without  reflecting  on  the  conse- 
quences that  might  come  of  my  impatience,  I  tore 
off  the  handkerchief. 

I  fell  upon  my  knees,  so  beautiful  did  the  world 
seem  to  me !  It  must  have  been  about  four  in  the 
morning ;  day  was  beginning  to  break  ;  the  stars 
were  disappearing  one  by  one  in  the  sky ;  the  sun 
was  about  to  rise  behind  a  chain  of  little  hills.  I 
had  before  me  a  vast  horizon ;  to  my  left,  ruins,  to 
my  right,  meadows  and  a  river ;  before  me  a  town ; 
beyond  that  town  the  sea. 

I  thanked  God  for  having  permitted  me  to  see 
once  more  these  beautiful  things  which,  notwith- 
standing the  twilight,  dazzled  me  so  much  that  I 
was  forced  to  close  my  eyes,  so  weakened  was  my 
sight  by  the  gloom  of  our  dungeon.  During  my 
prayer  Cantarello  closed  the  door.  It  was  that  of 
a  church,  as  I  had  thought ;  but  to  me  an  unknown 
church ;  I  was  perfectly  ignorant  of  the  place  I 
was  in. 

No  matter;  I  forgot  not  the  slightest  detail  :  and 
this  was  easy,  for  the  whole  landscajxj  was  reflected 
in  my  soul  as  in  a  mirror. 

We  waited  till  the  sun  had  risen  ;  then  we  walked 


234          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

towards  a  village.  On  the  way  we  met  two  or  three 
pei-sons  who  saluted  Cantarello  with  an  air  of  ac- 
quaintance. On  reaching  the  village  we  entered  the 
third  house  on  our  right.  At  the  farther  end  of 
the  7'oom,  near  the  bed,  sat  an  old  woman  spinning  ; 
near  the  window  was  a  young  woman,  about  my  own 
age,  who  wras  knitting  ;  a  child,  two  or  three  years 
old,  was  rolling  on  the  floor.  These  women  seemed 
accustomed  to  see  Cantarello ;  yet  I  remarked  that 
not  once  did  they  call  him  by  name.  My  presence 
astonished  them.  In  spite  of  my  clothes,  the  young 
woman  recognized  my  sex,  and  made  a  few  jokes 
about  it  in  a  low  voice  to  my  conductor.  "  lie  is  a 
young  priest,11  he  said  in  a  stern  tone,  —  "a  young 
priest,  a  relative  of  mine,  who  is  moped  at  the  semi- 
nary ;  and  from  time  to  time  I  take  him  out  with  me 
to  amuse  him." 

As  for  me,  I  must  have  seemed  besotted  to  those 
who  looked  at  me.  A  thousand  confused  ideas  were 
jostling  in  my  mind ;  I  asked  myself  whether  I  had 
better  cry  out  for  help,  tell  all,  and  denounce  Can- 
tarello as  thief  and  murderer.  Then  I  checked  my- 
self, reflecting  that  every  one  seemed  to  know  and 
respect  him,  while  I  was  unknown  ;  I  should  be 
.taken  for  some  madwoman  escaped  from  a  cell,  and 
no  attention  would  l)o  paid  to  me;  or,  if  it  happened 
otherwise,  Cantarello  might  flee,  might  rush  through 
the  church  and  cut  the  throats  of  my  husband  and 
child.  He  had  said  they  should  answer  for  my  con- 
duct. Besides,  how  could  I  find  them  without  him? 
The  door  through  which  we  had  left  the  church 
might  be  so  secret,  so  well  hidden  that  it  would  be, 


THE  SPERONARA  235 

perhaps,  impossible  to  discover  it.  I  resolved  to 
wait;  to  take  counsel  with  Luigi,  and  decide  with- 
out rash  haste  what  we  had  better  do. 

After  a  few  minutes,  Cantarello  took  leave  of  the 
two  women,  passed  his  arm  under  mine,  went  down 
a  little  alley  to  the  hanks  of  a  stream,  followed  it 
for  a  mile  along  its  course  which  brought  us  out 
near  to  the  church  ;  then,  making  a  circuit,  he  took 
me  under  the  porch  through  which  we  had  come  out. 
There  he  blindfolded  me,  opened  the  door,  and  closed 
it  behind  us.  Again  I  counted  forty  steps.  Then 
the  second  door  opened ;  I  felt  the  cold,  damp  im- 
pression of  an  underground  place.  I  went  down 
twelve  steps  ;  we  reached  the  third  door ;  then  the 
fourth  ;  it  creaked  on  its  hinges  ;  Cantarello  pushed 
me,  still  blindfolded,  into  the  cellar  and  closed  the 
door  behind  me.  I  tore  off  the  bandage  and  found 
myself  again  with  Luigi  and  my  child. 

I  wanted  to  tell  Luigi  at  once  all  that  I  had  seen  ; 
but  he  made  me  a  sign  with  his  finger  on  his  lips 
that  Cantarello  might  be  listening  behind  the  door 
to  hear  what  we  should  say.  I  sat  down  on  the 
mattress  that  served  as  my  bed  and  nursed  mv  child. 

Luigi  was  not  mistaken  ;  at  the  end  of  an  hour 
or  thereabouts,  we  heard  steps  departing  softly. 
Weaned  by  our  silence,  Cantarello  had  doubtless 
decided  to  wait  no  longer.  Nevertheless,  in  spite  of 
this  appearance  of  solitude  we  did  not  think  ourselves 
safe  as  vet;  we  waited  several  hours  longer,  and  then 
I  went  to  LuigPs  side  and  in  a  low  voice  told  him  all 
that  I  had  seen,  without  omitting  a  single  detail,  or 
forgetting  a  single  circumstance. 


236          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

Luigi  reflected  a  moment;  then  asking  me  in  his 
turn  certain  questions,  to  which  I  answered  affirma- 
tively, he  said : 

"  I  know  where  we  are ;  these  ruins  are  those 
of  the  Epipolae ;  that  river  is  the  Anapus ;  this 
town  is  Siracusa ;  and  this  chapel  is  that  of  the 
Marchese  di  San  Floridio." 

"  Oh,  my  God  ! "  I  exclaimed,  remembering  the  old 
history  of  a  Marchese  de  San  Floridio  who,  in  the 
days  of  the  Spaniards,  had  passed  ten  years  in 
a  subterranean  retreat  so  carefully  hidden  that  his 
most  rabid  enemies  had  never  been  able  to  dis- 
cover it. 

"  Yes,  that  is  it,"  said  Luigi,  comprehending  my 
thought.  "  Yes,  we  are  in  the  vault  of  the  Marchese 
Francesco,  and  as  much  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  men 
as  if  we  were  in  our  tomb." 

I  then  understood  how  fortunate  it  was  that  I  had 
not  yielded  to  the  impulse  that  prompted  me  to  cry 
for  help. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Luigi,  after  a  long  silence,  "  have 
you  any  hope  ?  have  you  formed  any  plan  ? " 

"  Listen,"  I  said.  "  One  of  those  two  women,  the 
youngest,  looked  at  me  with  interest ;  it  is  she  to 
whom  we  must  contrive  to  tell  who  we  are  and 
where  we  are." 

"  How  can  that  be  done  ?  " 

I  went  to  the  table  and  took  two  pieces  of  white 
paper  in  which  fruit  was  wrapped. 

"  We  must,"  I  said,  "  put  aside  and  conceal  all  the 
paper  we  can  get  hold  of  from  this  time  on ;  I  will 
write  upon  it  our  miserable  story,  and  some  day, 


THE   SPERONARA  2.'37 

when  I  am  taken  out  I  will  give  it  to  that  young 
woman.1' 

"  But  if,  in  spite  of  that,  they  cannot  find  the 
entrance  to  the  cellar,  if  Cantarello,  being  arrested, 
keeps  silence,  we  shall  still  remain  buried  in  this 
tomb." 

"  Would  it  not  be  better  to  die  than  to  live 
thus  ?  " 

"  But  our  child  ?"  said  Luigi. 

I  gave  a  cry  and  darted  to  my  child.  God  for- 
give me !  I  had  forgotten  it ;  its  father  was  the 
one  who  remembered  it ! 

It  was  settled  that  I  should  follow  the  plan  I 
proposed  ;  only,  I  must  be  careful  to  forget  nothing 
that  could  guide  a  search.  After  this,  we  let  time 
elapse,  but  this  time  with  impatience,  for  a  gleam 
of  hope  was  on  the  hori/on,  distant  as  it  was.  In 
order  not  to  awaken  Cantarello\s  suspicions,  I  was 
forced  to  hide  my  ardent  desire  to  go  out  again. 
lie,  on  his  side,  seemed  to  have  forgotten  what 
he  had  offered  me.  Four  months  went  by  with- 
out my  saying  a  word ;  but  I  fell  back  into  a 
state  of  marasmus  so  evident  that  one  day,  finding 
me  lying  on  mv  mattress  without  strength  to  move 
and  pale  as  death,  he  said  : 

"  If  you  wish  to  go  out  in  a  week  from  now,  get 
yourself  ready  and  I  will  take  you." 

I  had  strength  enough  not  to  show  the  joy  I  felt 
at  this  proposal ;  I  merely  made  him  a  sign  with 
my  head  that  I  would  obey  him. 

During  the  time  that  had  elapsed  since  my  first 
out-going,  we  had  put  aside  all  the  paper  we  could 


238          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

lay  hands  on,  and  there  was  now  enough  on  which 
to  write  the  detailed  history  of  our  misfortunes. 

On  the  day  named  Cantarello  found  me  ready. 
As  on  the  first  occasion,  he  walked  before  me  to 
the  second  door;  there  he  bandaged  my  eyes.  After 
that  all  happened  as  before ;  at  the  door  of  the 
church  I  took  oft'  the  bandage.  We  came  out  at 
nearly  the  same  hour  as  the  first  time;  it  was  the 
same  scene,  the  same  sight,  and  yet,  strange  to  say, 
I  thought  it  less  beautiful.  We  walked  to  the 
village  and  entered  the  same  house.  The  two 
women  were  there  as  before,  one  spinning,  the  other 
knitting.  On  a  table  was  an  inkstand  and  pens;  I 
leaned  against  the  table  and  slipped  a  pen  into  my 
pocket.  During  this  time  Cantarello  talked  with 
the  young  woman  in  a  low  voice.  It  was  of  me 
they  spoke,  because  she  kept  looking  at  me  in 
speaking.  I  heard  her  say  to  him  :  "  He  does  not 
get  used  to  the  seminary,  your  young  man ;  for 
he  is  sadder  and  paler  than  the  last  time  you 
brought  him."1  As  for  the  old  woman,  she  did  not 
say  a  word  and  never  lifted  her  eves  from  the 
spinning-wheel ;  she  seemed  to  be  an  idiot. 

At  the  end  of  about  ten  minutes  Cantarello  put 
my  arm,  as  before,  under  his,  took  the  same  allev, 
and  went  down  to  the  bank  of  the  little  river. 
While  we  followed  this  path  I  said  to  Cantarello 
that  I  should  like  to  have  needles  and  cotton  for 
knitting;  and  he  promised  to  bring  them.  As  we 
returned  towards  the  church  I  noticed  that  we  must 
be  nearly  at  the  end  of  autumn  ;  the  harvest  was 
over,  so  was  the  vintage.  I  understood  then  why 


THE   SPERONARA  239 

Cantarcllo  had  not  taken  me  out  for  four  months. 
He  waited  till  the  labourers  had  quitted  the  fields. 

At  the  door  of  the  church  he  bandaged  my  eyes. 
I  entered,  led  by  him  and  making  no  resistance. 
I  counted  the  forty  steps  and  then  \ve  stopped.  I 
comprehended  that  during  this  pause  Cantarello 
was  searching  in  his  pocket  for  the  key.  I  heard 
him  feeling  along  the  wall  for  the  lock  ;  I  knew  his 
back  must  be  turned  to  me;  I  lifted  my  bandage 
quickly  and  as  quickly  replaced  it.  It  was  but  a 
second,  but  that  second  sufficed.  We  were  in  the 
chapel  to  left  of  the  altar ;  the  door  in  the  wall 
must  be  between  the  two  pilasters. 

That  is  where  the  entrance  must  be  looked  for 
until  it  is  found  ;  for  it  is  precisely  and  positively 
there. 

Cantarello  saw  nothing.  The  two  doors  opened 
successively  before  us,  and  as  the  third  closed  behind 
me  I  found  myself  again  in  our  dungeon.  Luigi  and 
I  preserved  the  same  silence  as  before ;  and  it  was 
not  till  I  thought  it  impossible  that  Cantarello 
should  still  be  there  that  I  drew  the  pen  from  my 
pocket  and  showed  it  to  Luigi.  He  made  me  a  sign 
to  hide  it,  and  I  slipped  it  under  my  mattress.  Then 
I  sat  down  beside  him  and  whispered  every  detail  of 
my  excursion.  The  discovery  I  had  made  of  the 
position  of  the  secret  door  in  the  church  was  a 
precious  circumstance,  and  with  the  precise  informa- 
tion I  was  now  able  to  give,  it  was  certain  that  a 
searcher  could  find  the  lock,  and  the  lock  once  dis- 
covered the  way  was  direct  to  us. 

I   let  one  day  pass  without  attempting  to  write. 


24-0          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

but  I  took  one  of  our  tin  cups,  and  in  it  I  diluted  in 
water  some  of  the  black  soot  that  remained  on  the 
calcined  wall ;  then  I  dipped  my  pen  in  the  mixture 
and  found  to  my  great  joy  that  it  served  me  well 
in  place  of  ink. 

The  next  day,  after  invoking  God  and  the 
Madonna,  I  began  to  write  this  manuscript,  which 
contains  an  exact  recital  of  our  unhappy  fate,  and 
the  very  humble,  very  urgent  prayer  to  any  Chris- 
tian into  whose  hands  it  may  fall,  to  come  as  soon  as 
possible  to  our  rescue. 

In  the  name  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Spirit,  so  be  it !  " 

[A  cross  was  drawn  below  these  words;  after  which 
the  manuscript  continued ;  but  the  form  of  the  nar- 
rative was  changed  ;  it  was  now  of  the  present  and 
not  of  the  past.  In  place  of  the  recollections  of  six 
or  eight  years,  it  was  a  daily  record,  notes  and  pass- 
ing impressions  jotted  on  the  paper  at  the  moment 
thev  were  thought  or  felt.] 

"  To-day  Cantarello  came  as  usual ;  besides  the 
ordinarv  provisions  he  brought  the  cotton  and  the 
knitting-needles  which  he  had  promised  me.  The 
manuscript  and  the  pen  were  hidden,  the  tin  cups 
were  rinsed  and  clean  upon  the  table.  lie  perceived 
nothing.  ()  my  God  !  protect  us. 

Three  weeks  have  gone  by ;  Cantarello  savs  noth- 
ing of  taking  me  out  again.  Can  he  suspect  some- 
thing? Impossible.  To-day  he  stayed  longer  than 


THE   SPERONAUA  241 

usual  and  he  looked  me  in  the  face.  I  felt  myself 
redden  as  if  he  had  read  my  hope  upon  my  forehead ; 
then  I  took  my  child  in  my  arms  and  rocked  it,  sing- 
ing, so  troubled  was  I. 

"  Ha  !  you  sing,"  he  said  ;  "  you  think  yourself  not 
so  badly  off  as  I  supposed  you  did."" 

"  It  is  the  first  time  I  have  done  so  since  we  have 
been  here." 

"  Do  you  know  how  long  you  have  been  in  this 
subterranean  place  ?  " 

"  No,"  I  answered  ;  "the  first  two  or  three  years  I 
kept  count  of  the  days  ;  but  I  saw  it  was  useless  and 
I  ceased  to  take  the  trouble." 

"  You  have  been  here  nearly  eight  years,"  said 
Cantarello. 

I  sighed ;  Luigi  uttered  something  like  a  roar  of 
rage.  Cantarello  turned  round,  looked  at  him  with 
contempt,  and  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Then,  with- 
out a  word  about  taking  me  out,  lie  went  away. 

So  it  is  eight  years  that  we  have  lived  locked  up 
in  this  cellar.  O  my  God  !  my  God  !  you  heard  it 
from  his  own  lips.  Eight  years  !  What  have  we 
done  to  suffer  thus  ?  Nothing  ;  you  know  that  well, 
my  God  ! 

Santa  Maria  del  Rosario,  pray  for  us  ! 

Oh  !  listen  to  me,  hear  me,  you,  whose  name  I  do 
not  know  ;  you,  my  only  hope  ;  you,  woman  like  me, 
mother  like  me,  have  pity  on  my  sufferings,  hear  me, 
listen  to  me ! 

Cantarello  has  just  gone  out.  Two  months  and  a 
half  have  gone  by  since  he  spoke  to  us  ;  but  to-day 

Iti 


JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

he  offered  to  take  me  out  n  week  hence ;  I  agreed. 
In  eight  days  he  will  come  and  take  me ;  in  eight 
days  my  fate  will  be  in  your  hands  ;  your  eyes,  your 
words,  your  whole  person  seemed  to  show  interest  in 
me.  My  sister  in  Jesus  Christ,  do  not  abandon  me  ! 

You  will  find  this  history  near  you  after  I  leave 
vour  room.  On  my  eternal  salvation,  on  the  grave 
of  my  mother,  on  the  head  of  my  child,  I  swear  it  is 
the  truth,  the  pure  truth,  —  that  which  I  shall  tell  to 
God  when  he  calls  me  to  him ;  and  to  each  of  my 
words  the  angel  who  accompanies  my  soul  to  the  foot 
of  his  throne  will  say,  shedding  teal's  of  pity  : 

"  Lord  God,  it  is  "true  !  " 

Listen  to  me  therefore.  As  soon  as  you  have  read 
this  manuscript,  go  to  the  judge  ;  tell  him  that  a 
mile  away  from  him,  three  miserable  beings  have  been 
buried  alive  for  eight  years  —  a  husband,  a  wife,  a 
child.  If  Cantarello  is  your  relation,  your  ally,  your 
friend,  say  nothing  more  than  that  to  the  judge,  and 
I  swear  to  you,  on  the  Madonna,  that  once  out  of 
this  tomb  not  a  word  of  accusation  shall  pass  my 
lips ;  I  swear  it  on  this  cross  which  I  draw,  and  may 
God  punish  me  in  my  child  if  I  fail  to  keep  my 
sacred  promise ! 

Tell  him  nothing  but  this  :  "  Three  human  Ix'ings, 
more  miserable  than  any  creatures  ever  were  before, 
are  close  beside  us ;  we  can  save  them  ;  take  level's, 
crowbars  ;  there  are  four  doors,  four  massive  doors 
to  break  through  before  we  can  reach  them.  Come, 
I  know  where  they  are,  come  !  "  And  if  he  hesitates, 
fall  at  his  knees  as  I  fall  now  at  yours,  and  implore 
him  as  I  am  now  imploring  you.  Then  he  will  come, 


THE  SPERONARA  243 

for  where  is  the  man,  where  is  the  judge  who  will  refuse 
to  save  three  of  his  fellow-beings,  —  especially  when 
they  are  innocent  ?  He  will  come  ;  you  must  walk 
before  him  and  lead  him  straight  to  the  church. 

You  must  open  the  door  ;  you  must  lead  the  judge 
to  the  chapel  on  the  right,  that  in  which  there  hangs 
above  the  altar  a  Saint  Sebastian  pierced  with  arrows. 
When  you  reach  the  altar  —  listen  to  me  —  there  are 
two  pilasters  to  your  left ;  the  door  must  be  be- 
tween those  two  pilasters.  Perhaps  you  cannot  find 
it  at  first ;  it  is  wonderfully  hidden,  so  it  seemed  to 
me  ;  perhaps  on  striking  against  the  wall  the  wall 
may  not  reveal  an  opening,  for  —  remember  this  — 
the  wall  itself  forms  the  entrance  to  these  subter- 
ranean caverns ;  but  the  entrance  is  there,  be  sure  of 
it,  and  do  not  allow  yourselves  to  be  disheartened. 
If  the  door  escapes  your  search,  light  a  torch,  put  it 
close  to  the  wall ;  I  tell  you  that  you  will  end  by 
finding  some  imperceptible  lock,  some  invisible  chink, 
which  is  there.  Rap,  rap ;  perhaps  we  shall  hear 
you,  know  you  are  there,  and  that  will  give  us  the 
courage  of  hope.  You  will  know  that  we  are  behind 
that  wall  awaiting  you,  praying  for  you  ;  yes,  for 
you,  for  the  judge,  for  all  our  liberators  whoever 
they  may  be  —  yes,  I  will  pray  for  them  all  the 
days  of  my  life  as  I  am  praying  now. 

It  is  quite  clear,  is  it  not,  —  all  that  I  have  told 
you  above  ?  In  the  church  of  the  Marchese  di  San 
Floridio,  the  chapel  to  the  right,  that  of  Saint 
Sebastian,  between  the  two  piL'isters.  Oh !  mv 
God,  my  God  !  I  tremble  so  in  writing  this  to  my 
deliverer,  that  I  know  not  if  it  can  be  read- 


244-  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

I  would  I  knew  your  name,  to  repeat  it  again  and 
again  in  my  prayers.  But  God,  who  knows  all, 
knows  that  it  is  for  you  I  pray,  and  that  is  all  that 
is  needed. 

Good  God !  something  has  happened  such  as 
never  happened  before  since  we  have  Ixxni  here. 
Cantarello  came  two  days  running.  Has  he  been 
followed?  Does  he  suspect  anything  ?  Has  any  one 
a  suspicion  of  our  existence?  Is  search  being  made 
for  us  ?  Oh  !  if  there  be  some  succour,  some  human 
being  who  is  helping  us,  help  him,  O  Lord  !  come  to 
his  aid  ! 

Cantarello  entered  at  a  moment  when  we  least 
expected  him.  Happily  these  papers  were  hidden. 
He  entered  and  looked  about  him  on  all  sides;  he 
struck  the  walls  ;  then,  feeling  sure  that  all  things 
were  in  their  usual  state  he  said  to  me :  "  I  have 
returned  Ixrause  I  think  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that, 
if  you  wish,  I  will  take  you  out  with  me  next  week."" 

"  I  thank  you,"  I  replied,  "you  told  me  so." 

"  Ah  !  I  told  you,  did  I  ?  "  said  Cantarello,  with 
an  absent  air,  "  very  good  ;  I  took  unnecessary  pains 
in  coming  back." 

Then  he  looked  about  him  again,  sounded  the  wall 
in  two  or  three  places,  and  went  away.  We  heard 
him  go  to  the  other  door  and  lock  it.  Then,  ten 
minutes  later,  or  thereabouts  a  species  of  detonation 
was  heard,  like  that  of  a  pistol  or  musket  shot.  Is 
it  a  signal  made  to  us  ?  Can  it  be,  as  we  have  hoped, 
that  some  one  is  watching  over  us  ? 


THE   SPERONARA  245 

For  four  or  five  days  nothing  new  has  happened  ; 
as  far  as  I  dare  to  trust  my  own  calculation,  to- 
morrow Cantarello  will  fetch  me ;  to-morrow  this 
paper  will  reach  your  hands,  O  my  deliverer !  Prob- 
ably I  shall  add  nothing  to  this  narrative,  nothing 
to  this  last  supplication  that  I  address  to  you  —  do 
not  abandon  us  to  our  despair ! 

O,  charitable  soul !  have  pity  upon  us  ! 

My  God  !  my  God  !  what  has  happened  ?  Either 
I  am  mistaken  —  and  it  is  impossible  I  should  be 
mistaken  by  two  whole  days  —  or  the  day  when 
Cantarello  always  comes  has  passed,  and  Cantarello 
has  not  come.  I  judge,  moreover,  by  our  provisions, 
which  he  never  failed  to  replenish  on  every  eighth 
day  ;  they  are  finished,  and  he  comes  not.  My  God  ! 
are  we  reserved  for  something  even  worse  than  we 
have  suffered  up  till  now  ?  My  God  !  I  dare  not 
say  even  to  you  what  I  fear,  such  terror  have  I  lest 
the  echoes  of  this  abyss  should  answer  :  Yes  ! 

Oh  !    my  God,  are  we  destined  to  die  of  hunger  ? 

Time  goes  by  —  time  goes  by  —  he  comes  not ;  not 
a  sound  is  heard.  My  God  !  we  consent  to  stay 
here  eternally,  never  to  see  again  the  light  of  heaven  ; 
but  our  child  !  He  promised  to  release  my  child, 
my  poor  child ! 

Where  is  he,  that  man  whom  I  never  saw  without 
horror,  and  whom  I  now  long  for  as  a  saviour  god  ? 
Is  he  ill  ?  O  Lord,  restore  him  to  health !  Is  he 
dead  without  having  time  to  leave  to  others  the  hor- 


246          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

rible  secret  of  our  tomb  ?      Oh  !  my  child,  my  poor 
child  ! 

Happily  my  child  has  my  milk  and  suffers  less 
than  we  do  —  but  without  food,  my  milk  will  dry  ; 
only  one  bit  of  bread  remains  to  us,  one  only. 
Luigi  says  he  is  not  hungry  and  gives  it  to  me.  Oh  ! 
my  God,  be  witness  that  I  eat  it  for  my  child  —  my 
child,  to  whom  I  will  give  my  blood  when  my  milk 
fails. 

Oh  !  —  something  worse  !  something  more  dread- 
ful still !  the  oil  is  exhausted,  our  lamp  is  going  out ; 
the  darkness  of  the  tomb  before  our  death  !  the 
lamp,  the  light  that  was  life ;  darkness  that  will  be 
death  —  and  agony  besides  ! 

Oh !    now,   since   there  is  no  more  hope  for  our 
bodies,  you,  whoever  you  be  that  will  descend   into 
this  awful  tomb  —  God !  the  lamp  is  going  out !  — 
pray,  pray  for  our  souls." 

The  manuscript  ended  there ;  the  last  four  words 
were  written  crookedly  ;  they  must  have  been  added 
in  the  dark.  What  happened  after,  no  one  knows 
but  God ;  the  death  struggle  must  have  been 
awful. 

The  piece  of  bread  given  by  Luigi  to  his  wife 
prolonged  her  life  by  nearly  two  days,  for  the  doctor 
declared  there  must  have  been  an  interval  of  thirty- 
six  to  forty  hours  between  the  death  of  the  husband 
and  that  of  the  wife.  This  prolongation  of  the  life 


THE   SPERONARA  247 

of  the  mother  had  prolonged  that  of  the  child  ;  thus 
of  these  three  hapless  beings  the  weakest  alone 
survived. 

The  reading  of  this  manuscript  was  done  in  the 
vault  itself,  mute  witness  of  the  deaths  of  Luigi  and 
Teresa.  It  left  no  doubt  or  obscurity  whatever  on 
the  events  that  had  taken  place ;  and  when  Don 
Ferdinando  had  added  his  testimony,  the  whole 
matter  became  clear  and  intelligible  to  the  minds 
of  all. 

On  his  return  to  the  village  Ferdinando  found  the 
child  already  better;  he  immediately  sent  a  mes- 
senger to  Feminamorta  to  learn  what  had  become 
of  the  first  child  of  Luigi  and  Teresa.  It  was  still 
with  the  worthy  couple  to  whom  it  had  been  in- 
trusted ;  and  its  board  had  been  punctually  paid  by 
some  unknown  person,  doubtless,  Cantarello.  Don 
Ferdinando,  with  the  consent  and  approval  of  his 
father,  declared  that  henceforth  his  family  would 
take  charge  of  the  two  unfortunate  orphans  and 
provide  for  them  and  also  for  the  obsequies  of  Luigi 
and  Teresa;  besides  which,  the  Marchese  di  San 
Floridio,  who  was  proud  of  his  son's  brave  enterprise, 
established  a  perpetual  fund  for  masses  for  the  repose 
of  their  souls. 


VIII 

A   SHARK.     PANTELLARIA 

WE  had  now  seen  in  Syracuse  all  that  Syracuse 
offered  of  interest ;  we  had  only  to  make 
provision  of  the  necessary  wines,  to  which  important 
acquisition  we  devoted  the  evening ;  at  the  close  of 
which  we  sent  our  casks  on  board  the  speronara, 
following  them  ourselves  after  embracing  our  learned 
and  amiable  count,  who  at  parting  gave  us  letters 
for  Palermo. 

We  found  our  ship's  company,  as  usual,  joyous, 
nimble,  and  ready  to  sail ;  all  of  them,  even  our 
cook,  had  profited  by  the  two  days1  rest  to  recover 
themselves.  Cama  awaited  us  on  deck,  anxious  to 
cook  our  supper ;  for  the  poor  devil,  it  must  be  said, 
was  full  of  good-will,  and  as  soon  as  he  could  stand 
upon  his  legs  he  made  for  his  saucepans.  Unfor- 
tunately, we  had  dined  with  Gargallo,  which  left 
us  no  possibility  of  profiting  by  his  eagerness  as  to 
supper.  Upon  our  refusal,  he  fell  back  on  Milord, 
who,  always  ready,  now  swallowed,  with  suitable  ad- 
mixture of  bread  and  potatoes,  the  succulent  maca- 
roni intended  for  Jadin  and  me. 

We  had  left  the  captain  suffering  somewhat  from 
rheumatism  in  the  loins  ;  willing  or  unwilling,  I  was 
forced  to  play  doctor,  and  I  ordered  friction  with 
camphorated  brandy.  The  captain  had  used  that 


THE   SPERONARA  249 

remedy  once,  and,  whether  it  was  imagination  or 
reality,  he  declared  that  he  felt  better  and  promised 
to  continue  the  prescription. 

The  weather  was  magnificent.  I  have  already 
said  that  nothing  is  finer,  nothing  more  poetic  than 
night  on  the  coasts  of  Sicily,  between  that  sky  and 
that  sea  which  seem  two  sheets  of  azure  embroid- 
ered with  gold.  So  we  stayed  rather  late  upon  deck 
playing  at  some  sort  of  game  invented  by  the  crew, 
in  which  the  loser  was  compelled  to  drink  a  glass  of 
wine.  Needless  to  say  that  after  two  or  three  les- 
sons we  became  more  skilful  than  our  masters,  and 
that  they  lost  perpetually ;  Pietro  especially  was 
desperately  unlucky. 

Towards  midnight  we  retired  to  our  cabin,  leaving 
the  deck  to  the  captain,  who  had  arranged  a  species 
of  platform  on  which  he  lay  flat  on  his  stomach  to 
give  more  facility  to  Giovanni  in  executing  the  pre- 
scription I  had  given  him  for  rheumatism.  We  were 
scarcely  in  bed  before  we  heard  a  piercing  cry.  We 
rushed,  Jadin  and  I,  to  the  door,  arriving  in  time  to 
see  the  deck  covered  with  flames ;  and  out  of  those 
flames  came  a  species  of  devil,  all  fire,  who,  with  one 
bound,  sprang  over  the  bulwark  and  was  lost  in  the 
depths  of  the  sea;  while  a  companion  devil,  whose 
arm  alone  was  burning,  rushed  about  the  deck  howl- 
ing like  a  soul  in  torment  and  calling  for  help.  For 
an  instant  we  stood,  like  the  crew,  comprehending 
nothing  of  this  scene  ;  then  Nun/Jo's  head  appeared 
above  the  cabin  and  gave  the  order  : 

"  Down  sail,  and  wait  the  captain  ;  he  is  in  the 
sea."1 


250          JOURNEYS   WITH    DUMAS 

The  order  was  executed  instantly,  and  with  that 
passive  exactitude  which  is  the  peculiar  characteristic 
of  the  obedience  of  sailors.  The  sail  glided  down 
the  mast  and  lay  on  the  deck ;  instantly  the  little 
vessel  stopped,  like  a  bird  with  a  broken  wing,  and 
we  heard  the  voice  of  the  captain  calling  for  a  rope ; 
a  moment  later,  thanks  to  that  article,  he  appeared 
on  board.  Then  all  was  explained. 

For  the  greater  efficacy  of  my  remedy  Giovanni 
had  warmed  the  camphorated  brandy,  and  armed 
with  a  flannel  glove  he  was  rubbing  the  captain's 
loins,  when  his  hand,  in  making  its  journey  from  the 
dish  that  held  the  liquid  to  the  spinal  column  of  the 
captain,  caught  fire  at  the  lamp  which  was  lighting 
the  operation ;  the  flame  was  instantaneously  com- 
municated from  the  hand  of  the  operator  to  the 
neck  of  the  patient,  and  from  the  neck  of  the 
patient  to  all  the  other  parts  of  his  body  moistened 
bv  the  specific.  The  captain  felt  himself  burning 
with  the  same  fires  as  Hercules,  and  to  put  them 
out  rushed  to  the  nearest  bulwark  and  plunged  into 
the  sea.  It  was  he  who  had  uttered  the  cry  we 
had  heard,  and  it  was  he  whom  we  had  seen  shoot 
past  like  a  meteor.  As  for  his  companion  in  misfor- 
tune, poor  Giovanni,  whose  arm,  imprisoned  in  its 
flannel  bag,  burned  from  the  tips  of  the  nails  to  its 
elbow,  he  was  rushing  about  the  deck  wildly  and 
yelling  like  a  maniac. 

Inspection  made  of  the  injured  parts,  it  was  seen 
that  the  captain's  back  was  fried,  and  Giovanni's 
hand  half-roasted.  All  the  carrots  on  board  were 
instantly  grated,  a  circular  compress  of  the  pulp  was 


THE  SPERONARA  251 

made  for  Giovanni's  fist,  and  a  cataplasm  three  feet 
long  for  the  captain's  back  ;  then  the  latter  lay 
down  to  sleep  on  his  stomach,  Giovanni  on  his  side, 
we  as  we  pleased,  the  crew  as  they  could,  and  order 
was  restored. 

When  we  awoke  we  were  doubling  the  promon- 
tory of  Passero,  once  Cape  Pachinum,  the  sharpest 
angle  of  ancient  Trinacria.  This  was  the  first  time 
I  had  found  Virgil  in  fault.  His  alt  an  cautett  pro- 
Jectaque  saxa  Pachini  were  not  there;  on  the  con- 
trary, we  saw  a  low  coast  sloping  gradually  down 
into  the  sea.  Since  the  day  that  the  author  of  the 
vEneid  wrote  his  third  canto,  it  is  true  that  /Etna 
has  made  so  many  scenes  that  the  levelling  which 
contradicts  the  harmonious  hexameter  of  the  poet 
may  very  likely  have  been  her  work  ;  this  supposi- 
tion, be  it  said,  is  made  without  offence. 

The  wind  had  fallen;  the  men  were  rowing;  the 
speronara  hugged  the  shore  at  a  distance  of  half 
a  mile,  which  enabled  us  to  follow  with  our  eyes 
its  ups  and  downs  and  all  its  sinuosities.  From 
time  to  time  we  were  distracted  from  our  contem- 
plation by  some  passing  gull,  at  which  we  fired  a 
shot,  or  by  some  dory  rising  to  the  surface  of  the 
water,  at  which  we  flung  the  harpoon.  The  sea  was 
beautiful  and  so  transparent  that  the  eye  could 
plunge  to  an  almost  infinite  depth.  Now  and 
then  in  that  a/ure  abyss  a  silvery  flash  would  sud- 
denly shine;  'twas  a  fish  of  some  kind  striking  the 
water  a  blow  with  its  tail  and  disappearing,  fright- 
ened, at  our  passage.  One  only,  that  seemed  about 
the  si/e  of  an  ordinary  pike,  followed  us  at  an 


252          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

incalculable  depth,  almost  without  movement,  as 
if  rocked  by  the  water.  I  had  kept  my  eves  on 
this  fish  for  nearly  ten  minutes  when  Jadin,  seeing 
my  close  attention,  joined  me,  to  know  what  caused 
it.  I  showed  him  my  finny  friend,  which  at  first 
he  had  some  difficulty  in  perceiving;  after  that,  he 
saw  him  as  plainly  as  I  did.  Presently  there  hap- 
pened what  happens  in  Paris  when  any  one  stops 
on  a  bridge  and  looks  into  the  river.  Pietro,  who 
was  passing  with  half  a  do/en  cutlets  destined  to 
be  the  solid  dish  of  our  breakfast,  stopped,  came 
up  to  us,  and  following  the  direction  of  our  eyes 
succeeded  in  seeing  the  object  that  attracted  them  ; 
but,  to  our  great  astonishment,  the  sight  seemed 
to  make  so  disagreeable  an  impression  upon  him 
that  I  hastened  to  ask  him  what  fish  it  was  that 
followed  us  so  obstinately.  Pietro  contented  himself 
with  wagging  his  head.  After  remarking,  "That's 
a  bad  fish,"  he  continued  his  way  to  the  kitchen 
and  disappeared  down  the  hatchway.  As  that 
reply  was  far  from  satisfying  us,  we  called  the 
captain,  who  was  just  then  appearing  on  deck, 
and  without  taking  time  to  inquire  for  his  rheuma- 
tism, we  repeated  our  question.  He  looked  for  an 
instant,  and  then,  with  a  gesture  of  disgust,  he  said  : 
"  C  'e  un  cane  marine,"  and  made  a  motion  to  go 
away. 

"  llie  deuce,  captain,'"  I  said,  "  you  look  dis- 
gusted. Un  cane  rnarino?  —  but  that's  a  shark, 
isn't  it?" 

"Not  precisely,"  replied  the  captain,  "but  a  fish 
of  the  same  species." 


THE  SPERONARA  253 

"Then  this  must  be  the  diminutive  of  a  shark," 
said  Jadin. 

"  lie  is  not  as  large  as  they  are  sometimes," 
replied  the  captain,  "but  he's  six  or  seven  feet 
long." 

"  You  are  joking,  captain  ! "  cried  Jadin. 

"  That  is  the  exact  truth." 

"  Tell  me,  captain,"  I  said,  "  is  n't  there  some  way 
to  fish  him?" 

The  captain  shook  his  head. 

"  Our  men  would  not  do  it,"  he  replied. 

"Why  not?" 

"  That 's  a  bad  fish." 

"  All  the  more  reason  to  get  rid  of  him." 

"No  ;  we  have  a  Sicilian  proverb,  that  every  ship 
that  takes  a  shark  from  the  sea  gives  a  man  to  the 
sea." 

"  But,  at  least,  could  n't  we  see  him  a  little 
nearer  ?  " 

"Oh!  that's  easy  enough;  throw  him  something 
and  he  '11  come." 

"But  what?" 

"Anything  you  like;  he's  not  proud;  from  a 
bundle  of  candles  to  a  veal  cutlet,  he'll  take  it." 

"Jadin,  don't  lose  sight  of  that  animal;  I'll  be 
back." 

I  ran  to  the  kitchen,  and  in  spite  of  Giovanni's 
outcries,  I  took  a  chicken  he  had  just  plucked  and 
trussed  for  our  dinner.  As  I  put  my  foot  on  the 
ladder  to  return  I  heard  deep  sighs,  and  looking 
round,  saw  Cama,  again  the  victim  of  seasickness. 
Hearing  that  a  shark  was  following  us,  he  imagined, 


254  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

with  the  superstition  of  the  race,  that  he  was  after 
his  dead  body.  I  tried  to  reassure  him,  but  seeing 
that  I  lost  my  time,  I  returned  to  my  dog-fish. 

He  was  still  in  the  same  place,  but  the  captain  had 
quitted  his  and  gone  to  talk  to  the  pilot,  leaving  the 
field  free  to  us,  curious  as  he  must  have  been  to  see 
what  would  happen  between  ourselves  and  the 
shark.  The  four  rowers  had  left  their  oars  and  were 
leaning  on  the  bulwark  at  a  few  steps  from  us,  ap- 
parently discussing  the  important  affair  that  was 
going  on. 

The  shark  was  still  motionless  and  kept  himself  at 
about  the  same  depth.  I  fastened  a  stone  of  our 
ballast  to  the  neck  of  the  chicken  and  flung  it  into 
the  water  in  the  direction  of  the  shark.  The  chicken 
sank  slowly,  and  reached  a  depth  of  about  twenty 
feet  before  the  fish  appeared  to  take  the  slightest 
notice  of  it;  then  I  thought  I  saw  him  visibly  en- 
large. As  the  chicken  went  down  he  was  rising  to 
meet  it.  At  last,  when  they  were  only  a  few  feet 
from  each  other,  the  shark  turned  over  on  his  back 
and  opened  his  jaws,  into  which  the  chicken  disap- 
peared incontinently.  As  for  the  stone  I  had  at- 
tached to  its  neck  to  carry  it  down,  that  did  not 
seem  to  inconvenience  our  guest ;  on  the  contrary, 
he  continued  to  rise  and  therefore  to  enlarge.  At 
length  he  came  to  within  a  few  feet  of  the  surface  of 
the  water,  and  we  could  see  the  truth  of  what  the 
captain  told  us;  our  fancied  pike  was  nearly  seven 
feet  long ! 

Then,  in  spite  of  the  captain's  representations,  the 
desire  seized  me  to  catch  that  shark.  I  called  Gio- 


THE   SPERONARA  255 

vanni,  who,  thinking  we  were  impatient  for  our 
breakfast,  appeared  at  the  top  of  the  ladder,  cutlets 
in  hand.  I  explained  to  him  that  the  matter  was 
something  very  different,  and  I  asked  him  to  go  and 
get  his  harpoon,  promising  him  a  louis  if  he  managed 
to  eatch  that  fish.  But  Giovanni  merely  shook 
his  head,  put  our  eutlets  on  a  chair,  and  departed 
saying : 

"  Oh  !  Excellency,  that  \s  a  bad  fish." 
I  knew  my  Sicilians  too  well  by  this  time  to  hope 
to  conquer  a  repugnance  universally  manifested  ;  but 
not  venturing  to  trust  my  own  skill  in  throwing  a 
harpoon,  and  not  having  a  fly  on  board  of  sufficient 
size  to  catch  such  a  monster,  I  determined  to  have 
recourse  to  our  guns.  Leaving  Jadin  on  the  watch, 
telling  him  if  the  shark  showed  signs  of  going  away 
to  entice  him  with  the  cutlets  (near  to  which  Milord 
was  sitting,  glancing  at  them  sideways  with  an  air 
of  concupiscence  impossible  to  describe),  I  hurried 
into  the  cabin  to  change  the  charge  in  my  gun,  slip- 
ping two  cartridges  into  each  barrel ;  as  for  the 
carbine,  it  was  already  loaded  with  slugs.  Then  I 
returned  to  the  deck.  All  was  in  the  same  state ; 
Milord  watching  the  cutlets,  Jadin  watching  the 
shark,  and  the  shark  appearing  to  watch  us. 

I  gave  the  carbine  to  Jadin,  and  kept  the  gun  for 
myself.  Then  we  called  to  Pietro  to  throw  a  cutlet 
to  the  shark,  intending  to  profit  bv  the  moment 
when  he  came  to  the  surface  of  the  water  to  fire  at 
him  ;  but  Pietro  answered  that  it  was  offending  God 
to  feed  dog-fish  with  veal  cutlets  when  we  gave 
nothing  but  bones  to  poor  Melor.  As  this  reply 


256          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

was  equivalent  to  a  refusal,  we  resolved  to  do  the 
thing  ourselves.  I  moved  the  dish  from  the  chair 
to  the  bulwark,  and  we  agreed  to  fling  one  cutlet  as 
a  bait,  and  not  to  fire  until  a  second  was  thrown,  so 
that  the  fish,  being  thoroughly  enticed,  should  have 
no  distrust  of  us  ;  the  play  then  began. 

It  all  went  off  as  we  expected.  Scarcely  had  the 
first  cutlet  touched  the  water  when  the  shark  came 
towards  it  with  a  single  motion  of  his  tail,  and, 
renewing  the  manoeuvre  which  had  succeeded  so  well 
in  regard  to  the  chicken,  he  turned  up  his  silvery 
l)ellv,  opened  his  large  jaws  furnished  with  two  rows 
of  teeth,  and  absorlx?d  the  cutlet  with  a  gluttony 
which  proved  that  if  he  had  a  habit  of  eating  raw 
meat  he  did  not  despise  it  cooked  when  occasion 
offered. 

The  crew  were  watching  our  performances  with 
feelings  of  pain,  visibly  shared  by  Milord,  who  had 
followed  the  dish  from  the  chair  to  the  bulwark,  and 
was  now  standing  on  the  bench  gaxing  over  it.  We 
had  gone  too  far  by  this  time  to  hold  back,  so,  in 
spite  of  the  general  disapprobation,  which  the  respect 
felt  for  us  alone  restrained  from  being  openly  mani- 
fested, I  took  the  second  cutlet,  and  measuring  the 
distance  so  as  to  have  the  shark  ten  feet  away  with 
his  side  towards  me,  I  flung  it  into  the  sea,  in- 
stantly returning  my  hand  to  the  trigger  of  my  gun 
to  be  ready  to  fire. 

But  hardly  had  I  accomplished  this  movement  when 
Pietro  gave  aery,  and  we  heard  the  sound  of  a  heavy 
Ixxlv  falling  into  the  sea.  It  was  Milord,  who  had 
not  supposed  that  his  respect  for  cutlets  was  to 


THE  SPERONARA 

extend  beyond  the  dish  ;  and  seeing  that  we  gave 
such  largesse  to  an  individual  who,  in  his  opinion, 
had  no  greater  claims  than  himself,  he  flung  himself 
overboard  to  dispute  the  pri/e  with  the  shark. 

The  scene  changed  ;  the  shark,  motionless,  seemed 
to  hesitate  between  the  cutlet  and  Milord;  during 
this  time  Pietro,  Filippo,  and  Giovanni  sprang  to 
the  oars  and  beat  the  water  with  them  to  frighten 
the  creature.  At  first  we  thought  they  had  succeeded, 
for  the  shark  dove  down  several  feet;  but  then, 
passing  a  fathom  or  so  under  Milord,  —  who,  not 
troubling  himself  in  the  least  about  him,  continued 
to  swim,  puffing  loudly,  towards  his  cutlet,  which  he 
never  lost  sight  of,  —  the  shark  reappeared  behind 
him,  coming  almost  to  the  surface  of  the  water ;  then 
with  a  single  motion  he  dashed,  turning  on  his  back 
as  he  did  so,  towards  the  dog  which  he  regarded  as 
his  prey.  At  that  instant  our  guns  went  off,  and 
the  shark,  with  one  violent  blow  of  his  tail,  which 
splashed  the  water  up  into  our  faces,  plunged  deep 
into  the  sea  and  disappeared,  dangerously  wounded 
no  doubt,  for  the  surface  of  the  water,  until  now  of 
a  beautiful  a/.ure,  was  clouded  with  a  faint  tinge 
of  blood. 

As  for  Milord,  without  paying  any  attention  to 
what  was  happening  behind  him,  he  snatched  his 
cutlet,  which  he  scrunched  triumphantly  as  he  made 
his  way  back  to  the  speronara  ;  but  there  a  great 
difficulty  faced  him  ;  it  was  easier  to  jump  into  the 
sea  than  to  scramble  on  board  again.  But,  as  we 
know,  Milord  had  a  friend  in  Pietro  ;  in  an  instant 
the  boat  was  in  the  water,  and  Milord  in  the  boat. 

IT 


258          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

It  was  there  that  he  finished  scrunching,  with  British 
phlegm,  the  last  morsel  of  bone  in  the  cutlet  that 
had  just  missed  costing  him  so  dear. 

His  return  on  board  was  a  veritable  ovation ;  Jadin 
was  inclined  to  thrash  him,  in  order  to  put  a  stop  to 
his  taste  for  hunting  cutlets ;  but  I  begged  off  from 
everything  that  could  mar  the  joys  of  his  triumph, 
which  he  bore  with  his  usual  modesty. 

The  whole  day  was  spent  in  commenting  on  the 
event  of  the  morning.  Towards  three  o'clock  we 
found  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  half  a  dozen  little 
islands,  or  rather,  large  reefs  .which  they  call  the 
Formic-he.  The  crew  proposed  to  me  to  land  upon 
one  of  these  rocks  and  dine  there ;  but  I  had  already 
set  my  mind  on  a  pretty  little  island  which  I  saw  about 
three  miles  off,  and  to  which  I  gave  the  order  to  steer ; 
it  was  named  on  my  map  as  the  island  of  Porri. 

This  was  a  day  of  repugnances ;  hardly  had  I 
given  the  order  before  a  long  conference  took  place 
between  the  captain,  Nunzio,  and  Vicenzo ;  then  the 
captain  came  to  tell  us  that  they  would  steer,  if  we 
continued  to  require  it,  to  the  point  I  mentioned, 
but  he  ought  to  inform  us  that  three  or  four  months 
earlier  they  had  found  on  that  island  the  body  of  a 
sailor  which  had  been  washed  ashore  there  by  the 
sea.  I  asked  him  what  had  become  of  the  body  ;  he 
said  that  he  and  his  men  had  dug  a  grave  and  buried 
it  properly  as  became  Christians  ;  after  which  they 
had  heaped  upon  the  grave  all  the  stones  they  could 
find  on  the  island,  which  made  a  little  mound,  that 
we  could  see  from  where  we  were.  Besides  which, 
as  soon  as  they  returned  to  the  village  Delia  Pace, 


THE   SPERONARA  259 

they  had  caused  a  mass  to  be  said  for  him.  As  the 
body  could  certainly  claim  nothing  further,  I  kept 
to  my  order,  and  appetite  beginning  to  make  itself 
felt,  I  requested  our  men  to  take  their  oars.  In- 
stantly six  rowers  were  at  their  posts,  and  we  advanced 
almost  as  rapidly  as  under  sail. 

During  this  time,  Nun/io's  head  appeared  above 
the  cabin  roof;  this  was  usually  a  sign  that  he  had 
something  he  wished  to  say  to  us.  We  went  nearer, 
and  he  told  us  that  before  the  taking  of  Algiers  this 
little  island  was  the  haunt  of  pirates,  where  they 
stationed  themselves  on  the  watch,  swooping  down 
like  birds  of  prey  on  all  the  vessels  that  passed  them. 
One  day  when  he,  Nun/io,  was  out  fishing  he  had 
seen  a  party  of  these  Uarbary  pirates  capture  a  little 
yacht  belonging  to  the  Prince  of  Paterno,  on  which 
was  the  prince  himself. 

This  event  brought  about  an  act  which  will  show 
the  character  of  the  great  Sicilian  nobles. 

The  Prince  of  Paterno  was  one  of  the  richest  men 
in  Sicily.  The  Barbary  pirates,  who  knew  with 
whom  they  had  to  do,  treated  him  with  the  utmost 
care,  and  taking  him  to  Algiers,  sold  him  to  the  dey 
for  100,000  piastres,  600,000  francs— a  mere  nothing. 
The  dey  did  not  haggle,  knowing  very  well  that  he 
could  earn  on  his  outlay  ;  he  paid  the  100,000  pias- 
tres, sent  for  the  Prince  of  Paterno,  and  negotiated 
with  him  as  power  to  power.  But,  at  the  first  word 
he  said  about  his  object,  the  prince  replied  that  he 
never  attended  to  money  mutters,  and  that  if  the 
dey  had  anything  of  that  kind  to  settle  with  him  he 
must  arrange  it  with  his  steward. 


260          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

The  Dcy  of  Algiers  was  not  proud ;  lie  dismissed 
the  prince  and  sent  for  the  steward.  The  discussion 
was  long,  but  finally  it  was  agreed  that  the  prince's 
ransom  and  that  of  his  suite  should  be  fixed  at 
600,000  piastres,  that  is  to  say,  nearly  four  millions  of 
francs,  payable  in  two  instalments :  300,000  piastres 
at  the  expiration  of  the  time  necessary  for  the  steward 
to  go  to  Sicily  and  return  with  that  sum,  and  300,000 
more  in  six  months.  It  was  settled  also,  that  on  the 
payment  of  the  first  instalment  the  prince  and  his 
suite  should  be  set  at  liberty  ;  the  second  payment 
had  for  security  merely  the  prince's  word. 

As  every  one  sees,  the  Dey  of  Algiers  had  made  a 
pretty  good  speculation  ;  he  had  won  3,500,000  francs 
at  one  stroke. 

The  steward  departed  and  returned  with  his 
300,000  piastres  ;  the  Dey  of  Algiers,  on  his  side, 
faithfully  keeping  his  sworn  word,  had  no  sooner  got 
the  money  than  he  declared  the  prince  free,  returned 
him  his  yacht,  and  for  greater  security  gave  him  a 
safe-conduct. 

The  prince  arrived  safely  in  Sicily  to  the  great  joy 
of  his  vassals,  who  loved  him  much,  and  to  whom  he 
gave  a  fete  on  which  he  spent  another  million  and  a 
half,  or  about  that.  Then  he  gave  an  order  to  his 
steward  to  collect  the  300,000  piastres  that  he  still 
owed  to  the  Dey  of  Algiers. 

The  second  300,000  were  collected  and  about  to  be 
sent  to  their  destination,  when  the  Prince  of  Paterno 
received  a  stamped  paper,  which  he  sent,  as  usual,  to 
his  steward.  This  proved  to  be  an  injunction  from 
the  King  of  Naples  to  pay  the  sum  intended  for  the 


THE   SPERONAUA  2C1 

Dey  of  Algiers  into  the  treasury  of  his  Neapolitan 
majesty. 

The  steward  announced  this  news  to  the  Prince  of 
Paterno,  and  the  Prince  of  Paterno  asked  his  steward 
what  that  meant.  The  steward  informed  the  prince 
that  the  King  of  Naples  having  declared  war,  two 
weeks  earlier,  against  the  Dey  of  Algiers,  he  consid- 
ered that  it  would  be  bad  policy  to  allow  his  enemy 
to  be  enriched ;  and  he  also  considered  that  it  would 
be  good  policy  to  enrich  himself.  Hence  the  order 
to  the  Prince  of  Paterno  to  pay  the  rest  of  his  ran- 
som into  the  coffers  of  the  State. 

The  order  was  imperative,  and  there  were  no  means 
of  evading  it.  On  the  other  hand,  the  prince  had 
given  his  word  and  would  not  break  it.  The  steward, 
being  questioned,  declared  that  the  coffers  of  his 
Excellency  were  empty,  and  could  not  lie  replenished 
before  the  next  harvest. 

The  Prince  of  Paterno,  as  a  faithful  subject,  paid 
into  the  hands  of  his  sovereign  the  300,000  piastres 
already  collected  for  the  rest  of  his  ransom  ;  then  he 
sold  his  diamonds  and  silver-ware  for  300,000  more, 
and  the  Dey  had  his  money  at  the  time  agreed  upon. 
Some  persons  remarked  that  the  greatest  pirate  of 
them  all  was  not  the  one  who  lived  south  of  the 
Mediterranean. 

As  for  the  Prince  of  Paterno,  he  gave  no  opinion 
on  that  delicate  question,  and  whenever  people  spoke 
to  him  about  his  adventure  he  always  replied  that  he 
felt  himself  happy  and  honoured  in  being  able  to  do 
a  service  to  his  sovereign. 

While  talking  with  Nun/io  we  were  Hearing  the 


262          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

island.  It  may  have  been  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  in  circumference,  entirely  bare  of  trees,  but 
covered  with  tall  grasses.  We  cast  anchor  at  a  dis- 
tance of  two  or  three  cable-lengths  and  lowered  the 
boat  into  the  water;  then  hundreds  of  birds  that 
covered  the  shore  flew  away,  screaming  loudly.  I 
sent  a  shot  after  them,  and  two  fell. 

We  got  into  the  boat,  which  began  bv  putting  us 
ashore,  then  it  returned  to  the  speronara  for  the 
various  articles  necessary  for  our  dinner.  A  species 
of  hollow  rock,  which  had  evidently  served  for  this 
purpose,  was  turned  into  a  chimney ;  and  a  few 
minutes  later  it  presented  a  magnificent  bra/ier, 
before  which  a  spit,  well  garnished,  was  comfortably 
turning. 

Daring  these  preparations  we  picked  up  our  birds 
and  examined  the  island.  The  birds  were  a  species 
of  gull ;  one  of  them  had  only  a  broken  wing.  Pietro 
amputated  the  injured  limb  and  immediately  removed 
the  patient  to  the  speronara,  where  the  crew  declared 
it  could  soon  be  tamed. 

The  boat  that  took  it  brought  back  Cama.  Every 
time  the  vessel  stopped,  the  j>oor  devil  recovered  a 
little  strength  and  got  upon  his  legs  as  well  as  he 
could.  lie  had  seen  the  island,  and  as  that  was  only 
half  infringing  the  order  not  to  let  him  land  Pietro 
had  pity  on  him  and  sent  him  ashore,  a  saucepan  in 
each  hand. 

During  this  time  we  made  an  inventory  of  our 
island.  The  pirates  who  inhabited  it  had  undoubt- 
edly a  strong  predilection  for  onions,  for  the  tall 
herbs  we  had  seen  from  a  distance,  and  through  which 


THE  SPERONARA  2G.'3 

we  now  made  our  way  with  difficulty,  were  nothing 
else  than  that  succulent  vegetable  gone  to  seed. 
Scarcely  had  we  advanced  fifty  steps  into  this  species 
of  kitchen  garden  before  we  were  nil  in  tears.  This 
was  paying  too  dear  for  an  investigation  which 
promised  little  that  was  new  for  science.  We  re- 
turned therefore  to  our  fire,  before  which  the  captain 
had  set  up  a  table  and  some  seats.  We  profited  by 
that  attention,  Jadin  to  touch  up  some  sketches,  and 
I  to  write  letters  to  friends. 

Aside  from  those  wretched  onions,  I  retain  few 
memories  more  picturesque  than  that  of  our  dinner 
beside  the  grave  of  the  poor  drowned  sailor.  The 
sea  was  magnificent,  and  the  air  so  limpid  that  we 
could  see  for  eight  or  nine  miles  on  the  mainland  the 
smallest  details  of  the  landscape.  Towards  nine 
o'clock  a  delightful  bree/e  sprang  up,  blowing  oft' 
shore;  this  was  just  what  we  wanted;  nothing  could 
be  better.  As  the  coast  of  Sicily  from  Cape  Passero 
to  Girgenti  offers  nothing  of  much  interest,  I  had 
told  the  captain  that  if  it  were  possible,  I  desired  to 
touch  at  the  island  of  Pantellaria,  the  ancient  Cos- 
syra.  Chance  now  served  us  well,  and  the  captain 
requested  us  to  hurry  on  board.  We  lost  no  more 
time  than  was  necessary  to  set  fire  to  the  dried  onion 
stalks  that  covered  the  island,  which  in  a  moment 
was  a  sheet  of  flame. 

Lighted  by  that  huge  pharos  the  speronara  set  sail 
and  as  she  did  so,  we  saluted  with  two  gun-shots  the 
lonely  grave  of  the  poor  lost  mariner. 

When  we  woke  the  next  morning  the  coasts  of 
Sicily  were  scarcely  visible.  As  the  wind  con- 


264          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

tinned  favourable  we  had  made  nearly  forty-five 
miles  during  the  night,  that  being  a  third  of  the 
distance  we  had  to  go.  If  the  weather  did  not  change, 
there  was  every  probability  that  we  should  arrive 
very  early  the  next  morning  at  Pantellaria. 

Towards  three  in  the  afternoon  while  we  were 
lying  on  our  mattresses  smoking  in  great  Turkish  chi- 
bouques the  excellent  Sinai*  tobacco  that  Gargallo 
had  given  us,  the  captain  called  us.  As  we  knew 
that  he  never  disturbed  us  unless  for  some  important 
reason,  we  rose  at  once  and  went  to  join  him  on  deck. 
Then  he  showed  us,  at  a  distance  of  about  a  mile  and 
a  half,  a  little  to  our  right  and  forward,  a  jet  of  water 
that  rose  like  a  gushing  spring  to  a  height  of  a  do/en 
feet  or  so  above  the  sea.  We  asked  him  the  cause 
of  that  phenomenon.  It  was  all  that  remained  of 
the  famous  Julia  Island,  the  fantastic  history  of 
which  I  have  already  related.  I  begged  the  captain 
to  make  us  pass  as  near  as  possible  to  this  species 
of  waterspout.  Our  desire  was  transmitted  to  Nun/io, 
who  steered  towards  it,  and  in  half  an  hour  we  were 
not  more  than  a  couple  of  hundred  feet  off.  Even 
at  that  distance  the  air  was  impregnated  with  a 
strong  odour  of  bitumen,  and  the  sea  was  visibly 
boiling.  I  had  some  water  drawn  in  a  bucket  and 
it  was  warm.  I  begged  the  captain  to  go  nearer  to 
the  centre  of  the  ebullition,  and  we  went  about  a 
hundred  feet  closer  ;  but  once  there,  Nun/io  seemed 
to  wish  to  go  no  farther.  As  his  wishes  had  usually 
the  force  of  laws,  we  deferred  to  them  at  once  and 
leaving  the  ex-island  Julia  to  our  right  we  lay  down 
again  and  finished  our  pipes,  while  the  speronara, 


THE   SPERONAHA  265 

diverted  a  moment  from  her  course,  was  once  more 
headed  for  Pantellaria. 

Towards  seven  in  the  evening  we  saw  land  before 
us ;  our  sailors  declared  it  was  the  island,  and  we 
went  to  bed  with  that  assurance.  They  had  not 
deceived  us.  We  were  roused  towards  three  o'clock 
by  the  noise  of  our  anchor  going  down  ;  I  put  my 
nose  out  of  the  cabin  and  saw  that  we  were  lying  in 
a  species  of  port. 

In  the  morning  there  were,  as  usual,  a  thousand 
difficulties  to  be  met  before  we  could  step  ashore. 
There  was  much  question  of  cholera  just  then,  and 
the  Pantellariots  saw  cholera  patients  everywhere. 
They  took  our  papers  with  tongs,  they  soused  them 
in  vinegar,  they  examined  them  with  telescopes;  at 
last,  however,  it  was  recogni/ed  that  we  were  in  a 
satisfactory  state  of  health,  and  the  authorities  per- 
mitted us  to  set  foot  ashore. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  see  anything  more  poverty- 
stricken,  more  miserable  than  the  species  of  hamlet 
straggling  along  the  shore  that  surrounded  with  a 
l)elt  of  dirty  and  decrepit  houses  the  little  harbour 
in  which  we  had  anchored.  An  inn  to  which  they 
took  us  was  so  repulsive  in  dirt  that  on  a  promise 
from  Pietro  to  cook  us  a  good  breakfast  in  the  style 
of  the  people  of  the  region,  we  started  on  our  ex- 
plorations fasting. 

The  principal  curiosities  of  the  place  are  two 
grottoes  which  arc  found  on  the  mountain  at  a  dis- 
tance of  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  village. 
One,  called  the  Fornella  (stove),  is  so  hot  that  we 
could  scarcely  stay  in  it  ten  minutes,  and  even  then 


266          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

our  clothes  were  impregnated  with  sulphur.  The 
other,  called  the  Giacchio,  is,  on  the  contrary,  so  cold 
that  in  less  than  a  half  an  hour  a  bottle  of  water 
freezes  solid.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  doctors  have 
sei/ed  upon  these  grottoes  as  a  double  good  fortune, 
and  kill  there  annually,  some  by  heat,  others  by  cold, 
a  certain  number  of  patients. 

As  we  left  the  Fornello,  we  saw  Pietro  in  the  act 
of  skinning  a  kid  which  he  had  just  bought  for  ten 
francs.  Two  trunks  of  olive-trees  transformed  into 
fire-dogs,  and  a  spit  of  oleander,  aided  by  a  Cyclopean 
fire  built  in  the  angle  of  a  rock,  were  to  bring  the 
whole  animal,  not  cut  up,  to  a  state  of  satisfactory 
cooking.  On  a  flat  stone  lay  dried  raisins,  figs,  and 
chestnuts  which  in  default  of  truffles,  were  meant  for 
the  stuffing  of  the  roast.  Cama,  who  desired  to  cut 
up  the  kid  into  cutlets,  legs,  haunches,  and  filets,  had 
been  suppressed,  and  now,  all  the  while  deploring  the 
inferiority  of  his  position,  was  helping  Pietro. 

We  walked  on  towards  the  glacier  grotto,  which 
we  entered  after  having,  by  the  advice  of  our  guide, 
taken  care  to  cool  off'  previously.  That  precaution 
was  not  unnecessary ;  the  temperature  within  being 
never  higher  than  eight  or  ten  degrees  below  zero. 
I  came  out  very  quickly,  but  I  gave  orders  to  keep 
our  wine  and  water  there  till  wanted.  A  few  ques- 
tions which  we  put  to  our  guide  as  to  the  geological 
causes  that  led  to  this  double  phenomenon  remained 
unanswered,  or  received  such  answers  that  I  did  not 
take  the  trouble  to  write  them  in  my  note-book. 

On  leaving  the  cold  grotto  our  guide  asked  us 
whether  we  did  not  intend  to  ascend  the  highest 


THE  SPERONARA  267 

mountain  on  the  island,  on  the  top  of  which  we  per- 
ceived a  sort  of  little  church.  We  asked  him  what 
we  could  see  from  there;  he  said  Africa.  This 
assurance,  joined  to  a  certainty  that  breakfast  could 
not  be  ready  for  at  least  two  hours,  made  us  reply 
affirmatively.  Instantly,  from  the  group  of  persons 
who  surrounded  us  and  had  followed  us  from  the  vil- 
lage ga/.ing  at  us  with  semi-savage  curiosity,  a  man 
about  thirty  years  of  age  detached  himself,  and  glid- 
ing among  the  rocks  disappeared  behind  a  bit  of 
rising  land.  As  this  disappearance,  which  immedi- 
ately followed  our  consent,  took  my  attention,  I 
asked  our  guide  who  the  man  was  who  had  just  left 
us.  He  replied  that  he  did  not  know  him  ;  he  was 
probably  some  shepherd.  I  tried  to  question  two 
other  Pantellariots ;  but  those  worthy  people  talk 
such  a  strange  patois,  a  mixture  of  Arabic  and 
Italian,  that  after  ten  minutes  of  reciprocal  conversa- 
tion, neither  side  had  understood  a  single  word  of 
what  had  been  said. 

The  summit  of  the  mountain,  which  is  volcanic 
though  its  crater  is  now  extinct, rises  two  thousand  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.  A  path,  very  distinctly 
marked,  and  quite  practicable,  especially  for  those 
who  had  just  climbed  /Etna,  showed  that  the  little 
church  I  mentioned  was  a  frequented  spot  of  pil- 
grimage. Two-thirds  of  the  way  up,  I  saw  a  man 
whom  I  thought  I  recognized  as  the  one  who  had  so 
hastily  quitted  us,  and  who  was  now  running  across 
torrents,  rocks,  and  ravines.  I  pointed  him  out  to 
Jadin,  who  merely  replied  : 

"The  gentleman  seems  in  a  hurry." 


2G8          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

Our  attendant  cortege  continued  to  follow  us,  al- 
though, evidently,  it  expeetcd  no  largesse  from  us. 
So,  as  it  asked  for  nothing,  and  we  had  to  endure  no 
other  importunity  than  the  annoyance  of  being  ga/ed 
at  as  curious  wild  beasts,  we  made  no  opposition  to 
the  honour  done  to  us.  Thus  our  escort  arrived  when 
we  did  at  the  summit  of  the  mountain  on  which 
stood  the  little  chapel.  By  the  sill  of  the  door,  was 
a  man  in  the  garb  of  a  monk,  evidently  awaiting  us, 
and  mopping  his  forehead.  At  the  first  glance  I  rec- 
ognized  my  skipper  of  rocks ;  then  all  was  made  clear ; 
he  had  rushed  on  ahead  to  don  his  religious  garb, 
and  he  now  came  forward,  offering  to  say  mass  for  us. 
As  the  mass,  in  my  opinion,  derives  its  value  from 
itself,  and  not  from  the  officiator  who  says  it,  I  made 
a  sign  that  I  was  ready  to  hear  it.  We  were  in- 
stantly ushered  into  the  church.  In  a  second  the 
preparations  were  made;  two  of  our  escort  offered 
themselves  as  choir-boys,  and  the  service  began. 

Religion  is  so  great  a  thing  in  itself  that,  what- 
ever may  be  the  ridiculous  veil  in  which  superstition 
or  cupidity  wraps  it,  it  always  succeeds  in  freeing 
the  sublime  head  with  which  it  looks  to  heaven,  and 
the  two  hands  with  which  it  blesses  earth.  As  for 
myself,  I  know  that  at  the  first  sacred  words  he  said, 
the  speculating  monk  had  disappeared,  giving  place, 
though  himself  was  unaware  of  it,  to  a  minister  of 
the  Lord.  My  mind  turned  back  upon  myself;  I 
thought  of  my  present  isolation,  lost,  as  I  was,  on 
the  highest  summit  of  an  almost  unknown  island 
Iving  as  a  sort  of  post-house  between  Europe  and 
Africa,  at  the  mercy  of  men  whose  language  I  could 


THE   SPERONARA  269 

not  understand,  and  having  no  means  of  recovering 
communication  with  the  world  but  a  frail  vessel, 
that  God  in  the  midst  of  a  storm  had  already  suc- 
coured with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he  had 
shattered  around  us,  like  glass,  frigates  and  three- 
deckers.  For  the  quarter  of  an  hour  that  the  mass 
lasted  I  found  myself  in  contact  with  all  the  beings 
I  loved  and  who  loved  me,  whichever  corner  of  earth 
they  inhabited.  I  saw  in  a  way  my  whole  life  pass 
before  me,  and  as  it  slowly  unrolled  before  my  eves, 
all  the  beloved  names  vibrated  one  by  one  within  my 
heart.  I  felt  at  one  and  the  same  time  a  deep  mel- 
ancholy and  a  sweet  joy  in  thinking  that  I  prayed 
for  them  while  they  were  all  unconscious  of  the  part 
of  the  world  in  which  I  was.  From  this  state  of 
feeling  it  resulted  that,  when  mass  was  over,  the 
monk,  to  his  great  astonishment  and  that  of  the 
assembly  who  had  attended  divine  service  gratis, 
saw,  in  place  of  the  two  or  three  carl'inoa  he  expected 
to  receive,  a  piastre  fall  bodily  into  his  bag.  It  was 
the  first  time,  certainly,  that  he  was  ever  paid  for  a 
mass  at  that  rate. 

On  leaving  the  little  chapel,  I  looked  about  me. 
To  left  stretched  Sicily  like  a  mist.  Beneath  our 
feet  was  the  island,  lapped  on  all  sides  by  the  Med- 
iterranean, calm  and  transparent  as  a  mirror.  Seen 
thus,  Pantellaria  had  the  form  of  an  enormous  tor- 
toise sleeping  on  the  water.  As  the  island  is  not 
more  than  thirty  miles  in  circumference,  the  eye 
can  take  in  all  details  and,  if  need  bo,  count  the 
houses.  The  part  that  seemed  to  me  most  fertile 
and  most  populated  is  that  which  is  known  on  the 


270          JOURN7EYS   WITH   DUMAS 

island  itself  by  the  name  of  Oppidolo,  on  the  north- 
west shore. 

However,  as  hunger  was  beginning  to  make  itself 
felt,  my  eyes,  after  wandering  at  random  for  some 
length  of  time,  fixed  themselves  finally  on  the  spot 
where  breakfast  was  preparing.  Though  we  stood  at 
a  distance  of  nearly  two  miles  above  that  spot,  the 
air  was  so  limpid  that  we  could  see  every  motion  of 
Pietro  and  his  acolyte.  He,  on  his  side,  saw,  no 
doubt,  that  we  were  looking  at  him,  for  he  began  to 
dance  a  tarantella  —  interrupting  it  in  the  middle  of 
a  figure  to  look  after  the  roast.  Doubtless  the  kid 
was  nearing  its  cooked  point,  for,  after  a  conscientious 
examination  of  the  animal,  he  turned  round  and 
beckoned  to  us  to  come  down. 

We  found  our  table  laid  in  a  charming  little  bos- 
quet of  axerolas  and  oleanders  interlaced  with  vines. 
The  table  consisted  simply  of  a  cloth  stretched 
on  the  ground  ;  above  it  rose  a  fine  palm-tree,  its 
long  branches  drooping  like  plumes.  Our  iced  wine 
awaited  us  ;  pomegranates,  oranges,  honcvcomb,  and 
grapes  formed  a  symmetrical  and  appetizing  dessert, 
to  the  centre  of  which  Pietro  came  bearing,  on  a 
plank  covered  with  the  large  leaves  of  aquatic  plants, 
our  kid,  roasted  to  a  turn,  and  exhaling  a  marvel- 
lously appcti/ing  odour. 

As  a  kid  weighs  from  twenty-five  to  thirty  pounds, 
and  as,  no  matter  what  our  hunger,  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  devour  it  between  us,  we  invited  Pietro  to 
give  part  to  the  company  who  from  the  moment 
of  our  landing  had  done  us  the  honour  to  follow  us. 
As  may  well  be  supposed,  the  offer  was  accepted 


THE   SPERONARA  271 

without  more  ceremony  than  that  with  which  it 
was  made.  We  reserved  for  ourselves  a  suitable 
portion,  as  much  of  the  meat  as  of  the  accessories 
with  which  it  was  stuffed  ;  and  the  rest,  accompanied 
with  half  a  do/en  bottles  of  Syracuse  wine  was 
offered  to  our  suite.  An  Homeric  repast  of  a  most 
picturesque  nature  resulted  ;  and  that  nothing  might 
be  lacking,  the  shepherd  who  sold  us  the  kid,  with- 
out remorse  for  having  eaten  it,  played  on  a  species 
of  bagpipe,  to  the  sound  of  which,  while  we  smoked 
voluptuously  our  long  Turkish  pipes,  two  Pantella- 
riots,  by  way  no  doubt  of  thanks,  danced  for  our 
pleasure  their  national  jig,  which  was  something 
between  the  Neapolitan  tarantella  and  the  Anda- 
lusian  bolero.  After  this  we  each  took  a  cup  of 
boiled,  not  filtered,  coffee,  —  that  is  to  say,  Turkish 
coffee,  —  and  went  down  to  the  village. 

c> 

Arriving  there,  we  saw  the  captain  talking  with 
a  sort  of  warder  of  convicts,  the  island  being  used 
by  the  Italian  government  as  a  penal  colony,  the 
citadel  being  the  prison.  The  man  was  in  charge 
of  four  convicts,  and  as  we  approached  we  noticed, 
to  our  great  astonishment,  that  the  captain  was 
speaking  with  a  sort  of  respect  to  his  companion 
and  calling  him  "  Eccellen/a/1  The  warder,  on  his 
side,  received  these  marks  of  consideration  as  being 
his  due,  and  it  almost  seemed  as  though  when  the 
captain  left  'him  to  join  us,  he  was  about  to  give 
him  his  hand  to  kiss.  It  will  be  easily  understood 
that  this  little  circumstance  excited  mv  curiosity; 
1  asked  the  captain  who  the  respectable  old  man 
was  with  whom  he  had  the  honour  to  be  conversing 


272          JOURNEYS   WITH    DUMAS 

when  we  interrupted  him.  He  replied  that  he  was 
his  Excellency  the  Signore  Anga,  commandant  of  the 
guard  at  Syracuse. 

Now,  how  did  Signore  Anga  from  commandant 
of  the  guard  at  Syracuse  become  a  prison  warder  at 
Pantellaria?  The  history  was  a  curious  one,  and 
here  it  is  : 

During  the  years  1810,  1811,  and  1812  the 
streets  of  Syracuse  were  suddenly  infested  by  bandits, 
so  adroit  and  yet  so  audacious  that  no  one  could 
set  foot  out  of  his  own  house  after  dark  without 
being  robbed  and  sometimes  murdered.  Soon  these 
nocturnal  attacks  were  not  confined  to  plunder- 
ing those  who  ventured  by  night  into  the  streets, 
the  bandits  gained  entrance  into  the  best-guarded 
houses  and  even  into  the  most  carefully  closed 
apartments,  so  that  the  forest  of  Bondy  of  discredi- 
table memory  was  a  place  of  safety  in  comparison 
with  the  poor  town  of  Syracuse. 

And  all  this  went  on  in  spite  of  the  watchfulness 
of  Signore  Anga,  commandant  of  the  guard ;  to 
whom,  however,  no  blame  could  be  laid,  except  that 
of  arriving  generally  five  minutes  too  late;  for  no 
sooner  was  a  house  pillaged  than  he  was  on  the 
spot  to  get  a  description  of  the  thieves.  Hardly 
had  the  poor  unfortunates  been  robbed  before  Si- 
gnore Anga  was  there,  with  his  patrol,  to  take  the 
description  of  the  robbers ;  scarcely  had  some  one, 
still  more  unfortunate,  been  murdered  before  he  was 
on  the  spot  to  raise  him,  receive  his  last  confession, 
if  he  still  breathed,  and  draw  up  a  pmch  verbal  of 
the  terrible  event.  Thus  every  one  admired  the 


THE   SPERONARA  273 

prodigious  activity  of  Signore  Anga,  while  deploring, 
as  I  have  said,  that  so  active  a  magistrate  did  not 
push  activity  far  enough  to  arrive  ten  minutes 
earlier,  instead  of  invariably  arriving  five  minutes  too 
late.  The  whole  city  congratulated  itself  no  less 
on  being  so  carefully  guarded,  and  nothing  in  the 
world  would  have  induced  it  to  accept  any  other 
commandant  than  the  Signore  Anga. 

But  still  the  robberies  continued  with  ever  increas- 
ing effrontery.  A  young  officer,  who  lodged  in  the 
convent  of  Saint  Francois,  had  just  received  some 
back-pay  in  Spanish  piastres ;  he  deposited  his  little 
treasure  in  a  drawer  of  his  secretary,  put  the  key 
in  his  pocket,  and  went  out  to  dinner,  reiving  on  the 
double  security  of  the  sacredness  of  the  place  where 
he  lodged  and  the  care  he  had  taken  to  lock  up  his 
three  hundred  piastres. 

On  returning  at  night  he  found  the  lock  of  his 
secretary  broken  and  the  drawer  empty.  Moreover, 
as  it  rained  that  evening  in  torrents,  and  nothing 
is  so  repugnant  to  Sicilians  as  to  get  wet,  the  robber 
had  taken  the  umbrella  of  the  young  officer. 

The  latter,  in  despair,  rushed  at  once  to  see 
Captain  Anga,  whom  he  found  just  returning,  in 
spite  of  the  abominable  weather,  from  one  of  his 
nocturnal  expeditions,  so  devoted  but,  unfortunately, 
so  unfruitful.  In  spite  of  his  fatigue  and  though 
he  was  wet  to  the  bone  and  muddy  to  the  knees,  he 
would  not  make  the  complainant  wait;  he  took  his 
deposition  on  the  spot  and  promised  that  on  the 
morrow  he  would  send  his  whole  brigade  in  pursuit 
of  those  piastres,  the  umbrella,  and  the  robbers. 


274  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

Three  months  went  by  and  nothing  was  heard  of 
robbers,  umbrella,  or  piastres. 

At  the  end  of  that  time,  one  day  when  the  weather 
was  as  bad  as  the  day  on  which  the  robbery  had 
taken  place,  the  young  officer,  now  the  proprietor 
of  a  new  umbrella,  was  crossing  the  great  square 
of  Syracuse,  when  he  thought  he  saw  an  umbrella 
so  exactly  like  the  one  he  had  lost  that  the  fancy 
sci/.ed  him  to  make  acquaintance  with  the  person 
who  was  carrying  it.  Consequently  at  the  turn 
of  the  next  street,  he  accosted  the  individual  and 
asked  him  his  way  ;  the  latter  told  him  with  much 
politeness.  The  officer  then  asked  the  name  of  him 
who  had  shown  him  such  courtesy,  and  learned  in 
reply  that  he  was  no  other  than  the  confidential 
servant  of  the  Signora  Anga,  wife  of  the  comman- 
dant of  the  guard. 

This  discovery  was  the  more  serious  because  the 
young  officer  had  acquired  a  positive  proof  that  the 
umbrella  was  actually  his  own.  As  he  talked  with 
the  servant  he  had  seen  his  initials  engraved  on  a 
little  silver  shield  that  adorned  the  handle  of  the 
umbrella  ;  evidently  the  robber  had  not  wished  to 
deprive  his  pri/e  of  that  ornament. 

The  officer  hastened  by  the  shortest  way  to  the 
house  of  the  man's  master ;  the  Signore  Anga  was 
absent  on  official  business.  The  officer  then  asked 
for  madame,  and  told  her  that  she  had  a  thief, 
or  at  any  rate  a  receiver  of  stolen  goods,  in  her  ser- 
vice. The  Signora  Anga  exclaimed  loudly  and  swore 
that  the  thing  was  impossible  ;  but  just  then  the 
servant  came  in,  and  the  young  officer  getting  im- 


THE   SPERONARA  275 

patient  at  denials  that  tended  to  nothing  less  than 
making  him  out  a  fool  or  an  impostor,  sei/ed  the 
servant  by  the  ear,  took  him  to  his  mistress,  snatched 
from  his  hands  the  umbrella  that  lie  still  held,  showed 
her  the  shield,  and  forced  her  to  see  that  the  initials 
were  his.  There  was  no  answer  to  make  to  that; 
mistress  and  servant  were  both  much  embarrassed, 
when  the  door  opened  and  Signore  Anga  appeared 
in  person. 

The  officer  at  once  renewed  his  accusation,  declar- 
ing that,  the  piastres  having  been  stolen  at  the  same 
time  as  the  umbrella,  and  the  umbrella  having  now 
been  found,  the  piastres  could  not  be  far  off'.  The 
Signore  Anga,  surprised  at  first  by  so  plain  a  dilemma, 
seemed  troubled,  but  soon  recovering  himself  he 
answered  the  officer  insolently  and  turned  him  out 
of  his  house. 

That  was  a  mistake  :  the  signore's  anger  gave  to  the 
one  robbed  suspicions  he  would  never  have  had  with- 
out it.  lie  rushed  to  the  English  colonel  who  com- 
manded the  garrison  in  the  town  ;  the  colonel  sent 
for  the  judge,  the  judge,  accompanied  by  a  clerk 
and  a  commissary  of  police,  made  a  descent  on  the 
Signore  Anga,  who,  to  his  great  humiliation,  was 
forced  to  allow  an  examination  of  his  premises. 

The  whole  house  had  been  searched  without  pro- 
ducing any  result,  when  the  young  officer,  who,  as 
the  interested  party,  was  assisting  the  others,  ob- 
served in  crossing  the  ground-floor  that  it  was  par- 
queted, a  very  rare  thing  in  Sicily.  He  struck  it 
with  his  foot  and  it  seemed  to  him  to  sound  more 
hollow  than  an  honest  floor  should  sound.  He 


276          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

called  the  judge  and  told  him  his  doubts;  the  judge 
sent  for  two  carpenters.  They  lifted  the  floor  and 
found,  one  after  another,  four  cellars  filled,  not 
with  umbrellas  only,  but  with  precious  vases,  mag- 
nificent stuff's,  silver-ware  bearing  the  arms  of  its 
owners,  in  short  a  complete  bazaar. 

Thus,  all  was  explained,  and  the  long  immunity  of 
the  robbers  needed  no  further  comments.  Signore 
Anga  was  at  once  the  leader  and  the  receiver  for 
these  traders.  The  sub-prior  of  the  convent  where 
the  young  man  lodged  was  his  associate.  The  busi- 
ness of  that  worthy  monk  was,  above  all,  the  sale 
of  the  articles  stolen.  Signore  Anga  was  really  a 
remarkable  man  who  had  organized  his  commerce 
on  a  large  scale  ;  he  had  establishments  at  Lentini, 
Calata-Girone,  and  Caltanissetta ;  that  is  to  say,  in 
the  towns  where  great  fairs  were  held ;  and  yet,  in 
spite  of  this  active  business,  Signore  Anga  operated 
on  so  large  a  scale  that  his  cellars  when  discovered 
were  full  to  overflowing. 

The  monk,  who  was  arrested,  escaped,  through 
ecclesiastical  privilege,  the  secular  arm  of  the  law 
and  was  made  over  to  his  bishop.  As  no  one  ever 
saw  him  again,  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  he  was 
buried  in  some  in  pace,  and  that  his  skeleton  will  be 
found  some  day  in  a  wall. 

As  for  Signore  Anga  he  was  condemned  to  the 
galleys  for  life.  Sent  at  first  as  an  ordinary  convict 
to  Vallano,  from  there  at  the  end  of  five  years  of 
good  conduct,  he  was  transferred  to  Pantellaria, 
where,  having  given  no  ground  of  complaint  during 
another  five  years,  he  was  raised  to  the  rank  of 


THE   SPERONARA  277 

warder,  which  he  has  now  occupied  honourably  for 
twelve  years,  with  the  hope  of  rising  before  long  to 
the  rank  of  garde-chimirme  —  guard  of  the  galleys. 

That  was  the  wish  our  captain  expressed  to  him 
as  they  took  leave  of  each  other. 

Before  quitting  Pantellaria  I  was  curious  to  try 
an  experiment.  I  put  into  the  post  letters  I  had 
written  to  my  friends,  all  of  which  were  dated  from 
the  island  of  Porri.  They  reached  their  destination 
exactly  one  year  after  my  return  to  Paris :  I  can  add 
nothing  to  that. 


IX 

GIRGENTI   THE  MAGNIFICENT 

IT  was  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  when  we  again 
set  sail ;  with  extreme  good  luck,  the  wind, 
which  for  the  last  two  days  had  blown  from  the 
eastward,  now  turned  southerly.  But  this  good  luck 
was  not  without  certain  drawbacks  ;  the  wind,  wholly 
.African,  came  laden  with  hot  puff's  from  the  Libyan 
desert ;  it  was  cousin -german  to  that  famous  sirocco 
of  which  we  had  had  a  specimen  at  Messina,  and, 
like  its  relation,  it  brought  extreme  depression  into 
the  whole  physical  organization. 

We  had  our  mattresses  carried  to  the  deck  ;  the 
cabin  had  become  suffocating.  A  dust  of  red  ashes 
floated  between  us  and  the  sky,  and  the  sea  was  so 
phosphorescent  that  it  seemed  to  roll  in  waves  of 
flame  ;  our  wake  for  a  mile  behind  the  speronara 
looked  like  a  train  of  burning  lava. 

When  things  were  thus,  the  entire  crew  disap- 
peared, and  the  vessel,  abandoned  to  Nunzio,  whose 
iron  body  could  resist  everything,  seemed  to  sail  bv 
herself.  Yet  I  ought  to  say  that  at  the  slightest 
call  of  the  pilot  five  or  six  heads  came  out  of  the 
hatchways,  and  the  most  languid  arms  recovered  their 
vigour  at  need. 

Though  we  were  less  sensitive  than  the  Sicilians  to 
the  influence  of  this  wind,  we  felt,  none  the  less,  a 


THE  SPERONARA  279 

certain  discomfort,  the  effect  of  which  was  to  take 
away  our  appetite;  the  night  was  therefore  spent 
in  sleeping  a  bad  sleep,  and  the  day  in  drinking 
lemonade. 

The  second  day  after  our  departure  from  Pantel- 
laria,  while  we  were  still  twenty-five  to  thirty  miles 
from  the  coast  of  Sicily,  the  wind  fell,  and  we  had  to 
return  to  the  oars  ;  but  as  each  man  had  in  his  arms 
a  remains  of  the  sirocco,  we  did  not  accomplish 
more  than  fifteen  miles  in  the  course  of  the  morning. 
Towards  five  in  the  afternoon  a  little  southwest 
bree/e  sprang  up  ;  the  pilot  made  the  most  of  it  by 
hoisting  sail,  and  the  speronara,  full  of  good-will, 
began  to  hasten  in  a  manner  that  gave  us  hope  of 
arriving  that  evening  in  the  harbour  of  Girgenti,  or 
rather,  to  give  its  local  and  ancient  name,  the  Porto 
Empedocle. 

The  hope  was  justified.  At  nine  that  evening  we 
cast  anchor  in  a  little  roadstead,  at  the  farther  end 
of  which  we  saw  the  lights  of  a  few  houses  ;  but  this 
operation  was  hardly  completed  before  we  were 
hailed  from  the  fortress  called  the  Salute,  and  told 
to  go  to  another  station.  Like  all  orders  of  the 
Neapolitan  police,  this  one  admitted  of  neither  delay 
nor  explanation  ;  it  was  necessary  to  obey  on  the 
instant.  We  began  to  raise  our  anchor,  but  in  the 
hurry  of  execution  all  the  precautions,  it  seems,  were 
not  taken,  and  the  cable  parted.  Instantly  a  buoy 
was  thrown  out  to  mark  the  spot,  and  as  the  officer 
of  the  Salute,  paying  no  heed  to  the  cause  of  our 
delay,  continued  to  hail  us,  we  went  with  full  force 
of  oars  to  take  the  place  assigned  to  us. 


280          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

This  affair  kept  us  afoot  until  midnight ;  then, 
weary  with  the  crossing  we  had  just  made,  we  slept 
an  unbroken  sleep  until  nine  the  next  morning. 
The  day  was  beautiful,  and  the  water  in  the  harbour 
so  calm  that  Cama,  already  up,  was  making  ready  to 
go  ashore;  first,  to  recover  completely,  like  Anttcus, 
on  touching  Mother  Earth,  next  to  buy  fish  from 
the  little  boats  we  saw  coming  in  laden  with  them. 
Inspection  made  of  the  two  or  three  houses  that, 
with  the  help  of  a  sign,  called  themselves  inns,  I 
thought  the  precaution  of  our  worthy  cook  was  not 
unwise,  and  that  it  would  be  better  to  breakfast  on 
board  than  to  risk  starvation  on  land.  In  conse- 
quence, Cama,  whom  I  authorized  to  do  what  he 
thought  best  in  regard  to  food,  risked  himself  on  a 
plank  laid  between  the  speronara  and  the  adjoining 
boat  and  the  ace  to  the  shore.  A  moment  later 
I  saw  him  return  with  a  basketful  of  fish  on  his 
head. 

I  went  to  announce  this  news  to  Jadin,  who  in 
such  circumstances,  always  levied  a  certain  tax  on 
our  still  life  in  the  interests  of  his  art.  This  time  I 
had  seen  from  afar  some  gigantic  red  mullet,  which, 
suitably  composed  with  a  ray  and  a  golden  dory, 
would  afford  a  fine  contrast  of  colour.  Whatever 
desire  he  may  have  had  to  be  lazy  for  another  half- 
hour,  Jadin  was  so  afraid  his  fish  might  escape  him 
that  he  hurried  into  his  strapped  trousers.  While 
he  was  accomplishing  that  operation  I  showed  him 
Cama  advancing  with  his  basket  and  setting  foot 
upon  the  plank,  when,  with  a  loud  cry,  fish,  basket, 
and  cook  disappeared  as  through  a  trap-door.  The 


THE  SPERONARA  281 

still  uncertain  feet  of  poor  Cama  had  failed  him,  and 
he  had  fallen  into  the  sea ;  instantly,  with  a  move- 
ment more  rapid  than  thought,  Pietro  sprang  after 
him. 

I  ran  to  the  side  where  the  accident  happened  and, 
to  my  great  ama/ement,  beheld  Pietro,  who,  instead 
of  rescuing  Cama,  was  collecting  the  scattered  fish 
with  the  greatest  care  and  replacing  them  one  by 
one  in  the  basket  which  was  floating  in  the  water; 
the  idea  that  Cama  could  not  swim  had  never 
occurred  to  him  ;  consequently,  supposing  that  the 
cook  would  take  care  of  himself,  he  took  care  of 
the  fries,  the  loss  of  which  may  have  seemed  to  him 
the  more  deplorable  of  the  two. 

At  this  instant  we  saw  poor  Cama  rising  to  the 
surface  of  the  water,  not  swimming,  but  beating  the 
sea  with  both  hands  like  a  drowning  man.  Time 
was  precious  ;  he  did  nothing  but  appear  and  dis- 
appear. I  threw  off  my  coat  to  spring  after  him, 
but  before  I  could  do  so  Filippo  was  overboard  in 
his  shirt  and  trousers  with  a  header  straight  into  the 
spot  where  Cama  had  gone  down  ;  five  or  six  seconds 
later  he  reappeared  holding  his  man  by  the  collar  of 
his  white  jacket.  We  wanted  to  throw  him  a  rope, 
but  he  made  a  disdainful  sign  that  he  did  not  need 
it,  and  pushing  Cama  to  the  ladder  he  contrived  to 
put  one  rung  of  it  into  his  hands.  Cama  clung  to 
that  rung  like  a  drowning  man,  and  then,  with  a 
mighty  effort,  he  managed  to  scramble  on  board. 
All  this  happened  so  rapidly  that  he  had  no  time 
to  lose  consciousness  ;  he  had  swallowed  some  pints  of 
sea- water,  which  it  was  necessary  lie  should  return  to 


282          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

its  own  element,  but  as  the  weather  was  suffocatingly 
hot  his  bath  did  him  no  other  harm  than  the  little 
evacuation  just  mentioned,  which,  in  the  opinion  of 
the  crew,  would  be  very  beneficial  to  his  health. 

The  captain,  having  fulfilled  all  formalities,  and 
our  passports  being  deposited  with  the  police,  noth- 
ing opposed  our  making  our  excursion  ashore ;  we 
therefore  risked  ourselves  on  the  trembling  plank 
that  had  nearly  proved  fatal  to  Cama,  and,  luckier 
than  he,  we  landed  safely. 

We  had  scarcely  set  foot  ashore  when  a  man,  who 
had  been  watching  us  for  over  an  hour,  came  up  and 
offered  himself  to  be  our  guide.  Three  or  four  others 
who  were  hovering  round,  no  doubt  with  the  same 
intention,  did  not  attempt  to  put  themselves  in  com- 
petition when  they  saw  him  take  from  his  pocket  a 
medal  which  he  showed  us.  This  medal  bore  on  one 
side  the  arms  of  Agrigentum,  which  are  three  giants 
each  bearing  a  castle  with  this  device  :  Signet  Agri- 
gentum miralnl'is  aula  gigantwn,  and  on  the  other 
side  the  name  of  Antonio  Ciotta.  In  fact,  Signore 
Antonio  Ciotta  was  the  official  guide  of  the  region, 
and  he  immediately  began  his  functions  by  walking 
in  front  of  us  and  telling  us  to  follow  him. 

Girgenti  itself  stands  at  a  distance  of  five  miles 
from  the  shore.  It  is  readied  bv  a  rather  rapid  rise 
which  takes  the  traveller  from  the  start  to  nearly  a 
thousand  feet  above  sea-level.  All  along  the  road 
we  met  mules  laden  with  sulphur  which  a  few  years 
later  was  to  lead  to  the  famous  suit  between  Naples 
and  England  in  which  the  King  of  the  French  was 
appointed  umpire.  The  road  smelt  of  the  trade  of 


THE  SPERONAIIA  283 

which  it  was  the  artery.  As  the  sacks  containing  the 
commodity  were  not  well  closed,  a  little  of  their  con- 
tents escaped  now  and  then,  so  that  the  road  along 
the  whole  way  was  covered  with  a  layer  of  sulphur, 
which  in  some  places  was  three  or  four  inches  thick. 
As  for  the  muleteers  who  accompanied  the  sacks, 
they  were  absolutely  yellow  from  head  to  foot, 
which  gave  them  a  most  singular  aspect. 

We  had  not  yet  entered  the  town  before  we  knew 
what  to  think  of  the  epithet  which,  with  emphatic 
pride,  Sicilians  have  added  to  its  name.  Girgenti  the 
Magnificent  is  nothing  but  a  dirty  mass  of  houses  built 
of  reddish  stone,  with  narrow  streets  through  which 
no  carriages  can  pass ;  these  streets  communicate 
with  one  another  by  stone  stairways  up  which,  on 
pain  of  the  most  disagreeable  consequences,  it  is  nec- 
essary to  step  in  the  middle.  As  it  was  evident  that 
the  rest  of  the  day  would  not  suffice  to  visit  the  ruins, 
we  went  in  search  of  an  inn  in  which  to  pass  the 
night.  Unfortunately,  an  inn  is  not  an  easy  thing 
to  find  in  Girgenti  il  Magnifico.  Our  friend  Ciotta 
took  us  to  two  hovels  that  insolently  called  them- 
selves by  that  name  ;  but  after  a  long  conversation 
with  mine  host  of  one  and  the  hostess  of  the  other, 
we  discovered  that  although  they  might  possibly  find 
us  something  to  eat,  they  could  not  give  us  beds.  At 
last,  a  third  hostelry  fulfilled  both  those  conditions, 
required  by  us  to  the  stupefaction  of  the  Agrigen- 
tines,  who  could  not  conceive  of  such  exacting  de- 
mands. We  hastened,  therefore,  to  secure  the  chamlwr 
offered  to  us  with  the  two  miserable  pallets  that  fur- 
nished it,  and  after  ordering  our  dinner  for  six  oYlock 


284          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

we  shook  off  the  fleas  that  covered  our  trousers,  and 
set  forth  to  visit  the  ruins  of  the  city  of  Cocalus. 

I  say  Cocalus,  trusting  to  Diodorus  Siculus  ;  let 
this  be  clearly  understood  ;  for  when  one  comes  in 
contact  with  the  ultramontane  savants  one  must  dot 
one's  ?s.  An  error  of  date,  a  fault  of  topography  are 
of  such  serious  consequence  in  the  land  of  Virgil 
and  Theocritus  that  one  must  needs  pay  attention  to 
avoid  them.  A  poor  inoffensive  traveller  puts,  with- 
out thinking  harm,  an  a  for  an  o,  or  a  5  for  a  6, 
and  lo  !  he  disappears,  and  no  one  ever  hears  of  him 
again  ;  his  family  grows  uneasy,  government  inquires, 
and  he  is  found  buried  under  a  mass  of  in-folios, 
like  Tarpeia  beneath  the  bucklers  of  the  Sabines. 
If  they  pull  him  out  living  he  escapes  as  fast  as  his 
legs  will  carry  him  ;  more  frequently  he  is  dead,  unless 
he  is  strong  enough,  like  Enceladus,  to  shake  /Etna. 
So  I  say  Cocalus,  just  as  I  should  say  anvthing, 
without  the  slightest  pretension  to  be  authoritative. 

Cocalus  reigned  in  Agrigentum  when  Daflalus 
took  refuge  there  with  all  the  treasures  he  brought 
from  Crete.  Those  treasures  were  so  considerable 
that  the  celebrated  architect  asked  permission  of  his 
host  to  build  a  palace  in  which  to  place  them. 
Cocalus,  who  had  plenty  of  waste  land,  told  him  to 
choose  the  site  that  suited  him  best  and  build  what 
he  liked  upon  it.  The  maker  of  labyrinths  chose  a 
precipitous  rock,  accessible  at  one  point  only,  and 
fortified  it  in  such  a  manner  that  four  men  sufficed 
to  defend  it  against  an  army. 

This  occurred  some  years  before  the  Trojan  war. 
But,  like  those  brooks  that  bury  themselves  under- 


THE   SPERONARA  285 

ground  on  leaving  their  springs,  to  rise  ngnin  as  rivers 
some  leagues  farther  on,  so  the  nascent  city  disap- 
peared for  two  or  three  centuries  in  the  obscurity  of 
time,  to  rise  again,  "the  most  beautiful  city  of 
mortals,""  in  Pindar's  verse.  In  those  days,  if  we 
believe  Diogenes  Laertius,  it  had  a  population  of 
eight  thousand  souls,  and,  if  we  believe  Empedocles, 
that  population,  among  other  defects,  carried  those 
of  gluttony  and  pride  to  such  lengths  that  they  ate, 
he  says,  as  though  they  were  to  die  on  the  morrow, 
and  built  as  if  they  were  to  live  forever.  So,  as 
Empedocles  was  a  philosopher,  that  is  to  say,  a  per- 
sonage in  all  probability  very  unsociable,  he  left  this 
city  of  cooks  and  masons  to  go  and  instal  himself  on 
Mount  /Etna,  where  he  lived  on  roots  in  a  little  tower 
that  he  built  for  himself.  It  is  well  known  that  one 
fine  morning,  disgusted  no  doubt  with  his  new  resi- 
dence as  he  had  been  with  his  old  one,  he  suddenly 
disappeared,  and  nothing  was  ever  found  of  him  but 
his  slipper. 

One  hundred  years  earlier,  as  is  also  well  known, 
Phalaris,  charged  by  his  fellow-citi/ens  to  build  a 
temple  to  Zeus  Polieus,  used  the  enormous  sums  in- 
trusted to  him  for  that  purpose  to  raise  an  army  and 
surprise  the  Agrigentines.  This  liberticidal  scheme, 
put  in  execution  during  the  feasts  of  Demeter,  drove 
the  Agrigentines  to  despair.  They  made  some  at- 
tempts  to  get  rid  of  their  tyrant,  but  he,  being  a  man 
of  imagination,  commanded  an  artist  of  that  epoch 
to  make  him  a  brass  bull,  twice  the  si/e  of  life,  the 
tail  end  of  which  could  be  opened  by  means  of  a  key. 
At  the  end  of  three  months  the  bull  was  finished  ;  in 


286          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

another  month  a  revolt  broke  out.  Phalaris  arrested 
.  the  leaders,  ordered  a  great  quantity  of  dry  wood  to 
be  piled  between  the  legs  of  his  animal,  set  fire  to  it, 
and  when  it  was  red-hot  opened  the  monster,  put  in 
the  rebels,  and  locked  them  up.  As  he  had  been 
careful  to  order  the  mouth  of  the  bull  to  be  kept  open, 
the  rebellious  people  who  were  present  at  the  execu- 
tion could  hear  through  that  issue  the  cries  and  moans 
of  the  victims,  sounding  like  the  roar  of  the  bull 
himself.  That  style  of  execution,  renewed  about  five 
or  six  times  in  the  course  of  eighteen  months,  had  the 
most  satisfactory  results.  Revolts  became  more  and 
more  rare,  until  at  last  they  ceased  altogether  and 
Phalaris  reigned,  thanks  to  his  ingenious  invention, 
tranquil  and  respected,  for  a  period  of  thirty-one 
years.  After  his  death  a  few  critics,  jealous  of  his 
fame,  said  his  brass  bull  was  only  an  imitation  of  the 
wooden  horse ;  nevertheless,  in  spite  of  this  accusa- 
tion, which  may  have  had  a  slight  foundation  of 
truth,  the  glory  of  the  invention  has  remained 
throughout  the  ages  entirely  his  own. 

The  epoch  that  followed  the  reign  of  Phalaris  was 
the  brilliant  era  of  Agrigentum.  Her  people  vied 
with  one  another  in  luxury  and  magnificence.  A 
private  individual  named  Kxenetus,  a  victor  in  the 
games,  returned  to  the  city  followed  by  three  hundred 
chariots,  each  drawn  by  two  white  horses  raised  in  his 
pastures.  Another,  named  Gel  lias,  had  servants 
stationed  at  all  the  gates  of  the  city  whose  mission  it 
was  to  bring  travellers  arriving  at  Agrigentum  to  his 
palace,  where  splendid  hospitality  awa'ted  them. 
Five  hundred  of  Gelon's  horsemen  having  to  pass 


THE  SPERONARA  287 

through  Agrigentum  in  the  month  of  January  and 
being  taken  to  Gellias  by  his  servants,  they  were 
lodged  and  fed  by  him  for  three  days  and  each  re- 
ceived a  cloak  on  his  departure.  Gellias  was,  more- 
over, if  we  may  believe  tradition,  a  man  of  much  wit, 
which  did  not,  as  one  can  well  believe,  injure  the 
hospitality  of  his  house.  So  the  Agrigentines,  hav- 
ing some  interests  to  settle  with  the  little  town  of 
Centuripae,  sent  him  there  to  terminate  the  affair. 
Gellias  started  at  once  and  appeared  before  the 
assembly  of  the  said  Centuripaeans.  But  as,  it 
appeal's,  he  was  only  four  feet  six  inches  tall  and 
his  little  figure  was  rather  badly  made,  roars  of 
laughter  greeted  his  apparition,  and  one  of  the  per- 
sons present,  more  impertinent  than  the  rest,  took 
upon  himself  to  ask  him,  in  the  name  of  the  xVs- 
sembly,  if  all  his  co-citi/ens  were  like  him.  "  No, 
gentlemen,"  replied  Gellias ;  "  there  are  some  very 
handsome  men  in  Agrigentum,  but  they  are  reserved 
for  great  republics  and  illustrious  cities ;  to  little 
towns  and  republics  of  no  consequence  men  of  mv 
si/e  are  sent."  This  answer  so  dumbfounded  the 
jesters  that  Gellias  obtained  from  the  Assembly  all 
he  wanted  and  had  the  glory  of  settling  the  in- 
terests of  Agrigentum  to  the  great  advantage  of 
that  city. 

Meantime  Carthage,  on  the  opposite  coast,  seeing 
that  Agrigentum  was  increasing  in  wealth  and  popu- 
lation, became  aware  that  she  must  have  her  for 
faithful  friend  or  declared  enemy  in  the  long  struggle 
she  was  just  undertaking  against  Home.  But  not 
only  did  the  Agrigentines  refuse  the  proffered  alliance 


288          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

with  the  Carthaginians,  but  they  declared  themselves 
their  enemy.  Hannibal  and  Hamilcar  immediately 
crossed  the  sea  and  laid  siege  to  the  city.  The  Agri- 
gentines  then  judged  it  wise  to  reform  at  least  some- 
thing of  the  luxury  that  had  now  become  proverbial 
the  wide  world  round ;  and  they  decided  that  the 
soldiers  on  guard  at  the  citadel  should  have  but  one 
mattress,  one  covering,  and  two  pillows.  In  spite  of 
this  Lacedemonian  rigour  Agrigentum  was  forced  to 
surrender  after  a  siege  of  eight  years. 

Then  all  its  riches  fell  a  prey  to  the  victor :  pic- 
tures, statues,  precious  vases,  all  was  sent  to  Carthage. 
There  was  nothing,  not  even  the  famous  brass  bull 
of  Phalaris,  that  did  not  cross  the  seas  to  embellish 
Dido's  city.  It  is  true  that  two  hundred  and  sixty 
years  later  when  Scipio,  in  his  turn,  took  and  pillaged 
Carthage,  as  Hamilcar  had  taken  and  pillaged  Agri- 
gentum, the  brass  bull  returned  over  seas  and  was 
sold  to  the  Agrigentines,  who  had  an  affection  for 
him  which  it  is  difficult  to  account  for  when  one  ex- 
amines the  unpleasant  relations  Phalaris  had  forced 
them  to  have  with  him. 

In  spite  of  this  restitution  and  the  protection  that 
Rome  afforded  her,  Agrigentum  never  recovered 
from  her  fall,  but  steadily  decreased  until  she  lost 
even  her  name.  To-day,  Girgenti,  poor  beggarly 
daughter  of  a  royal  race,  coven*  but  a  twentieth  part 
of  the  soil  once  covered  by  her  gigantic  ancestress, 
and  counts  but  thirteen  thousand  souls  vegetating 
with  difficulty  where  once  a  million  of  inhabitants 
lived  and  flourished  ;  which  does  not  prevent,  as  I  have 
already  said,  that  between  Messina  the  Noble  and 


THE   SPERONARA  289 

Palermo  the  Happy  she  pompously  styles  herself 
Girgenti  the  Magnificent. 

The  first  thing  that  struck  us  on  leaving  the  town 
was  the  gate  through  which  we  passed,  which  was 
evidently  a  Saracenic  construction.  I  resolved  to 
begin,  in  presence  of  this  monument  of  the  Arab 
conquest,  to  put  to  proof  the  licensed  knowledge  of 
our  guide;  so  I  asked  him  if  he  could  tell  me  to 
what  period  the  gateway  belonged ;  but  the  worthy 
Ciotta  merely  replied  that  it  was  very  old,  and  as  it 
looked  badly  architects  were  going,  by  order  of  the 
intendant,  to  pull  it  down  and  replace  it  by  another 
in  the  Greek  Doric  style.  I  asked  the  name  of  the 
worthy  intendant,  and  was  told  that  he  called  him- 
self Vaccari.  May  God  forgive  him  ! 

We  passed  on  our  left  the  Rupe  Atenne,  the  Rock 
of  Athene,  the  highest  of  the  hills  that  overlooked 
ancient  Agrigentum,  on  the  summit  of  which  the 
temple  of  the  goddess  once  stood.  We  thought  for 
an  instant  of  going  up  there,  but  our  guide  assuring 
us  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  but  a  rather  fine 
panorama,  we  postponed  the  ascension  and  went  on 
to  the  eastern  slope  of  the  same  hill,  on  which  stood 
the  temple  of  Persephone,  to  whom  the  Agrigentines 
vowed  a  special  devotion.  This  temple  is  nearly  as 
invisible  as  that  to  Athene,  except  that  on  its  old 
foundations  a  little  church  has  been  erected.  A 
hundred  yards  farther  on  flows  a  JiumlceUo  which, 
after  calling  itself  the  Acragas,  and  the  Dragon,  now 
styles  itself  modestly  the  River  Saint-Blaise  :  it  is  the 
one,  however,  that  in  the  days  of  antiquity,  separated 
ancient  Agrigentum  from  Neapolis,  or  the  new  city. 

19 


290  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

We  followed  the  circuit  of  the  walls,  still  quite 
visible,  and  soon  found  ourselves  at  the  angle  of  the 
rampart  on  which  was  built  the  temple  of  Juno  La- 
cinia,  which  rises,  supported  by  thirty-four  Doric 
columns  of  the  best  order,  above  an  almost  perpen- 
dicular precipice.  A  tradition,  believed  by  Fazzello, 
asserts  that  this  is  the  temple  to  which  Gellias  with 
his  family  and  his  treasures  retreated  when  Agrigen- 
tum  was  taken.  According  to  the  same  tradition, 
the  ruddy  tint  that  colours  the  stones  came  from  fire 
set  bv  Gellias  that  burned  him  up,  him  and  all  his 
family.  It  is  true  that  Diodorus  Siculus,  who  relates 
the  same  act,  says  that  it  was  done  in  the  temple  of 
Zeus-Atabyrius. 

In  this  temple  hung  the  famous  picture  of  Hera, 
painted  by  Zeuxis,  mentioned  by  Pliny,  sung  by 
Ariosto,  for  which  the  artist  had  taken  as  models  the 
five  most  beautiful  virgins  in  Sicily,  choosing  them 
from  one  hundred  others  who  passed  before  him  in 
their  nude  beautv.  Consequently,  the  figure  of  the 
goddess  was  the  quintessence  of  all  the  different  per- 
fections united  in  one  form.  At  any  rate,  as  Zeuxis 
had  taken  a  fancy  to  this  mode  of  working,  he  re- 
newed the  experiment  for  his  Helena  of  Crotona  and 
his  Aphrodite  of  Siracusa. 

In  spite  of  the  truly  African  sun,  the  stabs  of 
which  fell  plumb  upon  our  heads,  Jadin  sat  down  to 
make  me  a  drawing  of  the  temple,  while  I  went  in 
search  of  pomegranates.  I  soon  found  a  bush  in  the 
middle  of  which  there  still  remained  a  few  magnifi- 
cent fruits  ;  but  just  as  I  was  about  to  plunge  in  my 
hand  I  fancied  I  heard  a  hissing,  and  looking  closer 


THE   SPERONARA  291 

I  saw  an  oscillating  head  illumined  by  two  ardent 
eyes.  It  was  indeed  a  snake,  which  had  wound  itself 
around  the  stein  of  the  shrub,  and,  like  another 
dragon  of  the  Hesperides,  was  preparing  to  defend 
the  fruits  I  coveted.  The  blow  of  a  stick  on  the 
shrub  made  him  quit  his  post  to  seek  refuge  in  the 
tall  grasses  which  grew  at  a  little  distance,  but  be- 
fore he  could  reach  them,  Milord,  who  had  followed 
me,  sprang  upon  him  and  broke  his  back  with  one 
clip  of  his  jaws.  Though  mortally  wounded,  he 
again  reared  himself  as  if  to  bite  Milord,  and  I  blew 
his  brains  out  with  a  pistol-shot.  We  measured  him, 
Ciotta  and  I,  and  found  him  over  five  feet  long.  The 
worthy  guide  declared,  no  doubt  to  flatter  me,  that 
it  was  one  of  the  largest  he  had  ever  seen.  I  gath- 
ered my  pomegranates  and  carried  them  in  triumph 
to  Jadin,  with  Ciotta  behind  me,  dragging  the  serpent 
by  the  tail. 

From  the  temple  of  Juno  Lacinia  we  passed  on  to 
that  of  Concord,  the  finest  and  least  damaged  of  the 
two.  A  stone  found  among  the  ruins,  and  now  pre- 
served in  the  town-hall  of  Girgenti,  gave  this  temple 
its  name.  Here  is  the  inscription  it  bore,  which  I 
copied  from  the  stone  itself,  leaving  the  words  in 
their  arrangement : 

CoXCOUin.E    AORIGKXTI- 

NOKUM  SACIU'M. 
RESPUBLICA  I.YUIUTAXO- 

ur.\i  DKDICAXTIBUS 
M.  HATKUIO  CAXDIDO  Puoros 
ET  L.  COKXKLIO  MAKCKU.O  Q. 
PR.     PR. 


292  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

We  began  by  examining  the  interior  of  this  build- 
ing, which  is  truly  magnificent ;  it  is  one  of  the  best- 
preserved  temples  of  antiquity.  We  entered  by  an 
open  door  in  the  centre  of  the  pronoas.  The  cella, 
thirty  feet  wide  and  ninety  feet  long,  is  perfectly 
preserved ;  two  staircases  are  built  into  the  corner 
walls,  by  one  of  which  I  went  up  easily  to  the 
top. 

In  1620,  the  temple  of  Concord  was  converted  into 
a  Christian  church  and  dedicated  to  San-Gregorio 
della  Rupe,  bishop  of  Girgenti.  It  was  then  that 
the  six  arched  doors  that  open  on  the  peristyle  were 
made ;  but  towards  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century 
this  wedlock  of  mythology  and  Christianity  was  re- 
garded as  a  double  profanation,  artistic  and  religious ; 
all  trace  of  the  modern  church  was  removed,  and  if 
the  god  of  antiquity  should  ever  return,  he  will  find 
his  temple  pretty  much  as  it  came  from  the  hands 
of  its  unknown  architect. 

When  I  came  down  from  the  top  I  found  Jadin 
still  at  work.  I  profited  by  his  stay  to  let  myself 
slide  down  to  the  foot  of  the  ramparts  and  visit  the 
tombs  that  were  hollowed  in  the  walls  ;  these  were 
receptacles  for  warriors,  whom  the  Agrigen tines 
buried  in  this  way,  that  they  might,  though  dead, 
still  protect  the  town.  During  the  siege  the  Car- 
thaginians opened  them  and  flung  the  ashes  to  the 
winds  ;  but  shortly  after,  the  plague  having  appeared, 
and  Hannibal,  their  leader,  being  dead,  Hamilcar 
attributed  the  appearance  of  the  scourge  to  this 
profanation,  and  to  appease  the  Greek  gcxls  he  sacri- 
ficed a  child  to  Kronos  [Saturn]  and  several  priests 


THE   SPERONARA  293 

to  Poseidon.  The  gods  were  satisfied  with  this 
reparation  and  one  fine  morning  the  plague  went  off 
as  it  had  come. 

I  wanted  to  return  by  the  way  I  came  down,  hut 
the  thing  was  impossible.  I  was  obliged  to  skirt 
the  ramparts  for  nearly  five  hundred  yards  and  to 
re-enter  through  an  opening  that  still  retains  the 
name  of  the  Porto  Aurea,  which  is  situated  between 
the  temple  of  Heracles  and  that  of  Zeus.  As  it  was 
getting  dark  I  postponed  my  visit  to  those  two 
marvels  until  the  morrow.  Half-way  back  to  the 
temple  of  Concord  I  met  Jadin,  who  had  folded  his 
baggage  and  was  coming  to  meet  me.  We  entered  a 
street  of  the  old  city  that  was  lined  with  tombs 
and  started  for  Girgenti,  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
distant. 

With  the  change  of  light  the  town  itself  had 
changed  aspect ;  the  sun,  about  to  sink  to  the  horixon, 
was  setting  behind  Girgenti,  seated  at  the  top  of  her 
rock  and  vigorously  defined  on  the  fiery  heavens, 
like  those  Babylonian  cities  of  which  Martin  the 
painter  dreams.  To  left  was  the  African  sea,  calm, 
azured,  vast ;  behind  us  the  temples  of  Juno  Lacinia 
and  Concord,  beneath  our  feet  the  antique  way, 
still  preserving  the  ruts  of  the  chariot-wheels ;  the 
same  ancient  road  trodden  two  thousand  years  ago 
by  a  vanished  people  whose  tombs  we  were  passing. 

As  we  approached  the  town,  the  grandiose  faded 
away,  and  Girgenti  reappeared  to  us  such  as  she  is 
really,  that  is  to  say,  as  a  confused  mass  of  dirty  and 
badly  built  houses.  But  even  so,  at  three  hundred 
steps  from  the  gate,  another  illusion  awaited  us. 


294          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

Young  girls  of  the  people  were  coming  out  to  draw 
water  from  a  fountain,  and  bearing  on  their  heads 
those  beautiful  jars  of  a  long  shape  such  as  we  find 
in  the  drawings  of  Herculaneum  and  the  relics  of 
Pompeii.  They  were,  as  I  have  said,  daughters  of 
the  people,  in  rags,  but  those  rags  were  draped  in  a 
manner  both  simple  and  grand  ;  the  gesture  with 
which  they  supported  the  amphora?  was  powerful. 
Such  as  they  were,  half  naked,  not  from  coquetry  but 
from  poverty,  they  were  still  the  daughters  of  Greece, 
degenerated,  bastardized  no  doubt,  but  in  whom, 
nevertheless,  it  was  easy  to  discern  some  traces  of  the 
maternal  tvpe.  Two  among  them,  on  our  invitation 
conveyed  through  Ciotta,  good-naturedly  posed  for 
Jadin,  who  made  two  sketches  of  them  which  2iiight 
well  be  thought  copies  of  antique  paintings. 

We  found  awaiting  us  at  the  hotel  another  Gellias, 
who,  having  heard  of  our  arrival,  had  come  to  offer 
us  hospitality.  He  was  the  architect  of  the  city, 
Signore  Politi,  a  very  agreeable  man,  whose  whole 
life  is  devoted  to  the  study  of  the  antiquities  in  the 
midst  of  which  he  lives.  Whatever  desire  we  had  to 
profit  by  his  offer,  we  refused  it,  not  wishing  to  hurt 
our  landlord,  who  had  evidently  been  making  great 
preparations  to  receive  us ;  but  we  declared  to 
Signore  Politi  that  in  all  other  respects  we  would 
gladly  claim  his  kindness.  He  answered  by  putting 
himself  at  our  entire  disposal.  We  took  instant 
advantage  of  his  speech  by  asking  him  for  informa- 
tion as  to  how  we  could  Ix^st  reach  Palermo. 

There  were  two  ways,  he  said,  by  which  to  do  so  : 
the  first  to  follow  the  coasts  in  the  spcronara ;  the 


THE   SPERONARA  i295 

second  to  cut  diagonally  across  Sicily  from  Girgenti 
to  Palermo.  The  first  necessitated  fifteen  to  eighteen 
days'  sailing;  the  second  three  days  only  on  mule- 
back  ;  moreover  it  would  show  us  the  interior  of 
Sicily  in  all  its  solitude  and  bareness  ;  there  was  no 
doubt  as  to  saving  of  time,  or  gain  of  the  picturesque. 
We  chose  the  second.  One  only  unpleasantness  was 
attached  to  it,  so  said  Signore  Politi.  The  road 
was  infested  with  robbers,  and  fifteen  days  earlier  an 
Englishman  had  been  murdered  between  Fontana- 
Fredda  and  Castro-Novo.  We  looked  at  each  other, 
Jadin  and  I,  and  laughed. 

Ever  since  we  had  been  in  Italy,  we  had  heard 
incessant  talk  of  bandits  without  ever  perceiving  so 
much  as  the  shadow  of  one.  At  first,  I  own,  the 
terrible  tales  of  travellers  stripped,  held  for  ransom, 
or  assassinated,  told  to  us  by  the  drivel's  of  carriages 
who  did  not  want  to  drive  by  night,  or  by  the 
masters  of  inns  to  induce  us  to  take  an  escort  on 
which  they  levied  a  percentage,  did  produce  upon  us 
a  certain  impression.  In  consequence,  the  first  few 
times  we  prudently  stopped  where  we  were  ;  after 
that  we  went  on  with  some  fear  ;  until  finally,  seeing 
that  the  danger  talked  of  was  never  reali/ed,  we  had 
ended  by  laughing  and  travelling  at  all  hours  with- 
out taking  other  precautions  than  that  of  never 
going  anywhere  without  our  weapons.  Later,  at 
Naples,  we  were  positively  assured  that  we  could  not 
quit  Sicily  without  meeting  that  which  we  had  vainly 
sought  elsewhere;  but  since  we  had  been  in  Sicily, 
as  at  Naples,  as  at  Home,  as  in  Florence,  we  had 
never,  so  far,  met  any  highway  robbers,  except  the 


296          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

innkeepers.  It  is  true  that  they  did  the  thing 
conscientiously. 

The  fear  expressed  by  Signore  Politi  seemed  to 
me  therefore  exaggerated,  and  I  told  him  that  what 
he  presented  as  an  obstacle  was,  on  the  contrary,  an 
attraction  the  more,  and  that  we  chose  deliberately 
the  land  journey.  As  this  answer,  not  to  seem 
braggadocio,  necessitated  explanation,  I  told  him 
of  all  the  warnings  given  to  us,  the  luck  we  had 
had  in  meeting  with  no  bad  adventures,  and  the 
desire  we  had  to  make  acquaintance  with  some 
bandit,  if  only  to  give  the  charm  of  emotion  to  our 
journey. 

"  Pardieu  ! "  exclaimed  Signore  Politi,  "  if  that  is 
all  you  want,  I  know  of  the  very  thing  for  you." 

"  What,  really  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  only,  the  man  is  a  retired  robber ;  an 
absolved  bandit,  as  one  might  say.  He  is  a  muleteer 
in  Palermo,  and  has  just  arrived  here  with  some 
English  people.  If  you  would  like  to  bike  him,  he 
has  two  good  mules,  and  with  him  you  will  have  one 
advantage:  if  you  should  meet  brigands  you  can 
negotiate  with  them.  Being  an  old  comrade  they 
will  give  him  advantages  they  woukl  not  give  to 
others." 

"  Is  this  honest  man  in  Girgenti  ?"  I  cried. 

"He  was  here  this  morning,  and  unless  he  has 
just  started,  which  I  doubt,  we  can  send  for  him." 

44  Send  at  once,  I  lx-g  of  you." 

Signore  Politi  called  the  waiter  and  told  him  to 
go  and  find  Giacomo  Salvatore,  tell  him  that  he, 
Signore  Politi,  wanted  him,  and  bring  him  immedi- 


THE   SPERONAHA  297 

ately.  Ten  minutes  later  the  waiter  reappeared 
followed  by  the  required  individual. 

He  was  a  man  from  forty  to  forty-five  years  of 
age,  who  still  preserved  beneath  the  costume  of  a 
Sicilian  peasant  a  certain  military  bearing.  He 
wore  upon  his  head  a  gray  woollen  cap,  Phrygian 
in  shape  and  embroidered  in  red ;  as  for  the  rest  of 
his  accoutrement,  it  consisted  of  a  blue  velveteen 
waistcoat,  through  the  armholes  of  which  came  the 
sleeves  of  a  coarse  linen  shirt,  the  cuffs  being  also 
embroidered  in  red  like  the  cap ;  a  woollen  sash  of 
several  colours  that  girt  his  waist ;  a  pair  of  short 
breeches  of  blue  velveteen  like  the  waistcoat ;  and  a 
species  of  top-boots,  open  at  the  sides.  The  whole 
stood  out  against  the  background  of  a  reddish  cloak 
embroidered  in  green,  which,  being  flung  over  one 
shoulder  only,  hung  down  behind  and  gave  to  his 
appearance  something  very  picturesque. 

Signore  Politi  had  requested  us  to  make  no  allu- 
sion to  the  former  profession  of  Signorc  Salvatore, 
and  to  content  ourselves  at  this  first  interview 
with  discussing  charges  and  making  our  agree- 
ment. We  promised  him  to  keep  within  the  strictest 
propriety. 

As  Politi  had  supposed,  the  muleteer,  on  arriving 
that  morning  with  two  foreigners,  had  said  to  him- 
self that  he  should  not  lose  his  time  if  he  waited 
awhile.  It  is  true  that  sometimes,  as  he  afterwards 
owned,  he  was  mistaken  in  his  calculation,  and  had 
met  with  timorous  souls  who  preferred,  for  their 
three  days'  trip  through  the  wilds,  other  company 
than  that  of  an  ex-robber;  then  again,  under  other 


298          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

circumstances,  such  for  instance  as  those  in  which  we 
met  him,  he  was  well  compensated  for  his  time  and 
trouble.  On  the  whole,  he  was  nearly  sure  of  his 
customer  when  the  traveller  was  English  or  French ; 
the  chances  were  even  when  the  traveller  was  Ger- 
man ;  but  if  he  was  Italian  it  was  not  worth  while 
even  to  present  himself  and  offer  his  services ;  he 
knew  beforehand  they  would  be  refused. 

The  discussion  was  not  long.  In  the  first  place, 
Salvatore,  proud  as  a  king,  had  the  habit  of  impos- 
ing conditions,  not  of  accepting  them.  As  these 
conditions  were  confined  to  two  piastres  for  each 
mule,  and  two  piastres  for  the  muleteer,  comprising 
the  mule  for  the  baggage,  in  all,  eight  piastres,  these 
arrangements  seemed  to  us  so  reasonable  that  we 
immediately  engaged  mules  and  muleteer  for  the 
morning  of  the  next  day  but  one ;  to  bind  which 
agreement  Salvatore  paid  us  two  piastres  as  earnest- 
money.  Here,  by  the  bye,  is  a  notable  fact : 
throughout  Italy  it  is  the  vettnrim  who  give  earnest 
money  to  travellers  and  not  the  travellers  who  give 
it  to  the  vetturin't. 

Sign  ore  Politi  then  asked  Salvatore  if  he  thought 
there  was  any  danger  for  us  on  the  road.  Salvatore 
replied  that  as  for  danger  there  was  none,  and  he 
would  answer  for  that.  At  one  place,  perhaps, 
about  five  or  six  miles  Ixjyond  Castro-Novo,  we 
might  have  some  negotiations  to  make  with  a  band 
who  had  chosen  to  make  that  neighbourhood  their 
headquarters ;  but,  even  in  that  case,  Salvatore  would 
answer  for  it  that  the  toll  demanded  of  us,  supposing 
it  was  demanded  at  all,  would  not  exceed  ten  or  a 


THE  SPERONARA  299 

dozen  piastres.  That  was,  as  will  be  seen,  a  mere 
nothing,  —  not  worth  the  trouble  of  thinking  about. 

This  point  settled,  we  offered  a  glass  of  wine  to 
Salvatore  and  all  of  us  drank  to  the  prospect  of  a 
fortunate  trip  ;  after  which  it  became  necessary  to 
inform  Captain  Arena  of  our  resolution  and  tell 
him  to  go  round  the  western  end  of  Sicily  with  the 
speronara  and  rejoin  us  at  Palermo.  Consequently, 
I  found  a  messenger  who  for  half  a  piastre  agreed 
to  take  my  despatch  to  the  harbour.  It  contained 
an  invitation  to  our  good  captain  to  come  and  see 
us  the  next  morning  at  nine  o'clock,  and  to  bring 
with  him  certain  designated  articles  of  bare  necessity 
for  our  trip  across  the  island  and  for  the  time  we 
might  have  to  wait  in  Palermo  for  the  rest  of  our 
roba. 

This  done,  Signore  Politi,  seeing  that  we  seemed 
very  anxious  to  go  to  bed,  took  leave  of  us,  offering 
to  be  our  guide  himself  on  the  following  day,  and 
begging  us  to  inform  the  landlord  that  we  should 
dine  with  him  and  not  at  the  inn.  Thanks  to  this 
discretion,  which  enabled  us  to  go  to  bed  early, 
we  were  early  afoot  the  next  morning  and  ready 
to  follow  him  when  he  came  to  fetch  us  at  six 
o'clock.  The  heat,  reflected  from  the  bare  rocks 
on  which  we  trod,  had  been  so  suffocating  the  pre- 
vious day  that  we  had  resolved  to  escape  it  as  much 
as  possible  by  starting  very  early  in  the  morning. 

We  left  the  city  by  the  same  gate  through  which 
we  had  entered  it,  accompanied  by  Signore  Politi, 
and  followed  by  our  friend  Ciotta,  whom  we  would 
fain  have  got  rid  of;  but  he,  like  the  gardener 


300          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

in  the  "  Nozze  di  Figaro,"  was  not  such  a  fool  as  to 
dismiss  such  good  masters.  While  awaiting  the 
opportunity  to  give  us  proofs  of  his  erudition,  he 
gave  us  marks  of  his  good-will  by  carrying  Jadin's 
stool,  umbrella,  and  colour-box. 

The  first  traces  of  antiquity  that  we  came  to  were 
tombs  hollowed  in  the  rock  itself,  such  as  I  had 
already  seen  at  Aries  and  in  the  village  of  Baux  ; 
I  left  Jadin  to  plunge  with  Signore  Politi  into  a 
profound  scientific  discussion,  and  I  walked  on  with 
Ciotta  to  a  square  little  building  of  rather  elegant 
construction,  standing  on  a  sub-base  and  adorned 
with  four  pilasters.  After  vainly  trying  with  my 
deepest  archaeological  knowledge  to  make  out  the 
antique  purpose  of  the  little  edifice,  I  was  forced 
to  have  recourse  to  Ciotta's  erudition,  and  I  asked 
him  if  he  had  any  opinion  as  to  that  ruin. 

"Why,  certainly,  signore,"  he  replied;  "that  is 
the  Chapel  of  Phalaris." 

"  Chapel  of  Phalaris  ! "  I  exclaimed,  astonished 
at  that  singular  conjunction  of  words.  "  Do  you 
believe  it?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,  Eccellenza." 

"  But  which  Phalaris  ? **  I  asked  ;  for  after  all, 
there  might  have  been  two,  and  the  reputation  of 
the  one  might  have  obscured  the  credit  of  the  other. 

"  Why  ! "  replied  Ciotta,  evidently  surprised  at  the 
question.  "  I  mean  the  famous  tyrant  who  invented 
the  brass  bull." 

"  Ah !  ah  !  pardon  me ;  I  had  no  idea  he  was  so 
devout." 

"  He   had   remorse,  Eccellenxa,  he  had  remorse ; 


THE  SPERONARA  301 

and  as  the  place  he  lived  in  was  only  a  few  steps 
distant,  he  built  this  chapel  so  as  not  to  have  to  go 
far  to  hear  mass.""  1 

"  Pardon  me,  Signore  cicerone,  but  your  explana- 
tion seems  to  me  so  judicious  that  I  ask  leave  to 
write  it  at  once  in  my  note-book. " 

"  Do  so,  Eceellenxa,  do  so." 

At  this  moment  Jadin  joined  me.  As  I  did  not 
wish  to  deprive  him  of  the  luminous  explanation 
given  me  by  Ciotta,  I  left  the  two  together  and 
walked  on  with  Signore  Politi  to  visit  the  Temple 
of  the  Giants,  while  Jadin  made  in  a  few  strokes 
a  pencil  sketch  of  the  Chapel  of  Phalaris. 

The  Temple  of  the  Giants  is,  at  the  present  time, 
a  mass  of  ruins,  and  if,  according  to  Biscari,  a  tri- 
glvph  had  not  been  found  among  them  it  would 
have  been  difficult  to  say  to  what  order  of 
architecture  the  edifice  belonged.  According  to  all 
probability,  this  temple,  that  seemed  built  for  eter- 
nity [in  the  fifth  century  before  Christ]  was  over- 
thrown by  the  barbarians.  In  1401,  Fa/iello,  the 
chronicler  of  Sicily,  says  that  he  saw  still  standing 
three  of  the  giants  who  formed  the  caryatides.2  It  is 

1  The  building  docs  really  go  by  the  name  of  the  "  Ora- 
torium  of  Phalaris."  It  was  originally  a  Greek  Sanctuary;  in 
1()S<>,  when  the  town  was  taken  by  the  Normans  under  Roger 
I.,  Agrigentum  was  made  into  a  bishopric  and  the  building 
became  a  Norman  chapel.  —  Tu. 

a  It  is  curious  that  Dumas  does  not  give  its  ancient  name. 
Temple  of  Zeus,  or  mention  the  minute  description  of  it  by 
Diodorus  Siculus,  who  tells,  from  sight,  of  the  vast  columns 
twenty  feet  in  circumference,  with  flutings  so  deep  that  a  man 
could  stand  in  the  depths  of  one.  The  colossal  Telamones  or 
Atlantes  mentioned  above  stood  above  them  holding  up  the 


302  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

these  three  giants  that  modern  Girgenti,  proud 
daughter  of  her  race,  has  taken  for  her  arms.  Some- 
time later  an  earthquake  threw  them  down,  and 
to-day,  of  all  that  "  court  of  colossals,"  as  the  motto 
of  the  city  calls  them,  nought  remains  but  one  poor 
giant,  whose  broken  parts  have  been  brought  together 
as  he  lies  upon  the  ground;  so  that  he  still  gives, 
with  a  section  of  the  famous  columns  in  the  flutings 
of  which  a  man  could  hide,  a  faint  idea  of  the  gran- 
deur of  the  building. 

We  measured  that  stone  giant :  he  was  twenty- 
four  to  twenty-five  feet  in  height,  including  the  arms 
bent  above  his  head.  The  outlines  of  the  figure  are 
much  defaced,  these  caryatides,  according  to  all  prob- 
ability, having  been  covered  with  stucco,  and  their 
hind  sides  resting  against  pilasters  or  walls.  Our 
friend  Ciotta  had  set  up  on  this  figure  a  theory 
not  less  ingenious  than  the  one  he  had  propounded 
to  me  respecting  the  Chapel  of  Phalaris ;  he  thought 
that  this  great  giant  was  one  of  the  ancient  inhabi- 
tants of  Sicily,  who,  having  had  the  imprudence  to 
fall  into  a  petrifying  fountain,  had  been  preserved 
intact  until  the  day  when,  the  fountain  having  gone 
dry  owing  to  an  earthquake,  he  was  found  such  as  he 
is  to-day. 

From  the  Temple  of  the  Giants  we  had  only  the  an- 
tique way  to  cross  before  reaching  that  of  Heracles; 
which  has  lx>en  even  more  maltreated  than  its  neigh- 
bour. [The  stones  of  both  these  temples  were  in 

entablature.  The  metopae  on  the  east  side  represented  the 
wars  of  the  gods  with  the  giants,  those  on  the  west  side 
the  Trojan  war.  —  Ta. 


THE   SPERONARA  303 

modern  times  carried  down  the  antique  way  to 
build  the  Molo  of  Girgenti,  now  called  the  Porto 
Empedocle.]  One  column  alone  remains  standing. 
This  is  the  temple  which  Cicero  says,  apropos  of  the 
famous  painting  of  Alcmene  by  Zeuxis,  was  so  mag- 
nificent that  it  was  difficult  to  see  anything  finer : 
Qiio  non  facile  dixerim  quidquid  vldease  pulchriii.1. 
So,  when  Verres,  who  found  it  ready  to  his  hand, 
attempted  to  steal  that  picture  and  the  statue  of 
Heracles  by  night,  the  inhabitants  of  Agrigentum 
rose  in  rebellion  and  drove  away  with  stones  the 
messengers  of  the  Roman  proconsul. 

These  ruins  visited  we  went  down  through  the 
Porta  Aurea,  to  the  plain  without  the  walls,  where 
we  presently  reached  a  small  square  building,  which 
some  call  the  tomb  of  Theron  [descendant  of 
Telemachus,  conqueror  of  Him  era,  and  beauti- 
fier  of  Acragas] ;  others  say  it  LS  that  of  a  famous 
courser.  Each  side  gives  such  powerful  proofs  in 
support  of  its  assertion  that  our  guide,  embarrassed 
between  the  two,  told  us,  by  way  of  conciliating  both, 
that  the  tomb  was  that  of  an  ancient  Agrigentine 
king  who  had  himself  buried  there  with  a  courser 
that  he  loved. 

Three  hundred  steps  farther  on  are  two  columns 
encased  in  the  walls  of  a  little  casino ;  they  are 
all  that  remains  of  a  temple  to  .Ksculapius.  The 
plain  in  which  they  stand  is  still  called  the  Campo 
Romano.  This  was  the  spot  where,  according  to 
Polybius,  a  part  of  the  Roman  army  camped  dur- 
ing the  first  Punic  war. 

As  the  sun,    with   whom   we   had    made  so    inti- 


304  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

mite  an  acquaintance  the  day  before,  was  begin- 
ning again  to  do  us  the  honours  of  the  town  — 
which  Pindar  says  he  did  not  disdain  to  sing  him- 
self—  we  deprived  ourselves  of  seeing  the  temples  of 
Hephaistos,  Castor  and  Pollux,  and  the  Piscine  made 
by  the  Carthaginian  prisoners  in  the  valley  of 
Acragas.  Ciotta  tried  to  insist  on  taking  us 
there,  but  we  promised  to  pav  him  as  if  we  had 
gone ;  which  brought  him  around  instantly  to  our 
sentiments. 

On  reaching  the  hotel  we  found  Captain  Arena 
waiting  for  us  with  our  cook.  We  were  surprised 
by  this  infraction  of  the  commands  of  the  Neapolitan 
police,  who  forbade,  it  will  be  remembered,  that  Cama 
should  set  foot  on  land.  But  the  poor  devil  had  so 
implored  that  he  should  be  taken  from  an  element 
on  which  he  did  not  have  a  moment's  rest,  and  which 
had  come  so  near  being  fatal  to  him  the  evening  lx>- 
fore,  that  the  captain,  touched  by  his  supplications, 
brought  him  to  us  to  ask  whether,  in  spite  of  the  in- 
junction against  him,  we  would  take  it  upon  us  to 
carry  him  bv  land  to  Palermo.  The  victim  awaited 
our  decision  with  so  piteous  a  face  that  we  had  not 
the  courage  to  refuse  his  request.  At  the  risk  of 
what  might  happen,  Cama  was,  to  his  great  satis- 
faction, reinstated  on  terra  firma.  Five  minutes 
later  our  landlord  rushed  in  to  ask  if  we  were 
dissatisfied  with  our  dinner  of  the  evening  before. 
As  we  had  no  wish  to  hull  the  feelings  of  the  worthy 
man,  who  had  really  done  all  he  could,  I  told  him 
that  far  from  complaining  we  were,  on  the  contrary, 
well  satisfied  ;  then  he  Ix'gged  me  to  come  and  put  a 


THE   SPERONARA  305 

stop  to  what  was  going  on  in  his  kitchen,  where 
Caina  was  turning  everything  topsy-turvy.  I  ran 
there  at  once,  and  found  Caina  in  the  middle  of  five 
or  six  saucepans  demanding  with  loud  outcries  some- 
thing to  put  into  them.  It  was  this  indiscreet  de- 
mand that  wounded  our  landlord.  I  explained  to 
Cama  that  his  requirements  were  exorbitant,  and  I 
requested  him  to  leave  the  cook  of  the  hotel  to  cook 
as  he  pleased  the  do/en  eggs  which  with  great  diili- 
culty  he  had  managed  to  procure  for  us.  Cama 
retired  grumbling,  and  I  could  comfort  him  only 
by  telling  him  he  should  have  his  turn  during  our 
journey  from  Girgenti  to  Palermo. 

The  captain  had  brought  all  we  had  sent  for,  and 
on  the  chance  of  our  wanting  them,  a  hundred  or  so 
of  piastres.  But  inasmuch  as  what  Signore  Politi 
had  told  us  of  the  road  did  not  invite  us  to  over- 
burden ourselves  with  money,  we  begged  him  to 
carry  back  the  said  sum  to  the  speronara,  where 
it  would  be  far  safer  than  in  our  pockets.  We  had 
between  us,  Jadin  and  I,  about  fifty  once.t,  that  is  to 
say,  seven  or  eight  hundred  francs,  which  seemed 
to  us  all  the  more  sufficient  because  the  captain 
promised  to  rejoin  us  in  about  ten  days.  lie  had 
feared  for  a  moment  that  the  accident  of  losing  his 
anchor  might  oblige  him  to  remain  some  days  at 
(Jirgenti  in  order  to  replace  it;  but  Filippo  had* 
dived  so  often  and  so  well  that  he  managed  finally 
to  detach  its  iron  tooth  from  the  rock  in  which  it 
was  caught,  and  at  last,  having  dived  seven  times  to 
a  depth  of  twenty-five  feet,  lie  returned  to  the  sur- 
face of  the  water  bringing  the  anchor.  Then  Pietro 

20 


306          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

and  Giovanni,  who  were  awaiting  him,  plunged  over- 
board with  a  cable ;  and  that  being  passed  through 
the  ring,  the  anchor  was  hoisted  in  triumph  on  board 
the  speronara. 

All  going  on  for  the  best,  we  took  leave  of  our 
captain,  giving  him  rendezvous  at  Palermo. 

Immediately  after  breakfast,  which,  as  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  forecast  given  above  of  it,  did  not 
keep  us  long,  we  set  out  in  search  of  whatever  re- 
markable things  modern  Girgenti  might  offer.  The 
list  was  short :  a  shop  of  Etruscan  vases,  very  empty, 
each  piece  at  a  price  nearly  triple  what  it  would  cost 
in  Paris ;  a  small  picture,  called  a  Raffaelle,  at  best 
a  Giulio  Romano,  which  had  been  stolen,  then  re- 
turned by  the  medium  of  a  confessor,  and  was  now 
in  the  keeping  of  the  judge,  who  was  likely  to  become 
its  ultimate  possessor ;  and,  finally,  the  cathedral 
church,  deprived  for  the  time  being  of  its  bishop,  for 
the  reason  that,  the  last  prelate  having  died,  the  King 
of  Naples  became  possessed,  provisionally,  of  his  reve- 
nues ;  and  as  these  amounted  to  some  thirty  thou- 
sand onces  (about  4,800,000  francs)  his  Majesty  of 
the  Two  Sicilies  was  in  no  haste  to  fill  the  vacant 
benefice. 

These  different  visits,  insignificant  though  they 
were,  brought  us,  nevertheless,  to  the  dinner  hour, 
and  to  a  meal  which  was  served  to  us  with  a  profu- 
sion we  had  found  with  our  good  Gemellaro  at  Nico- 
losi,  and  never  since.  At  dessert,  the  conversation 
again  fell  upon  robbers  ;  and  this  topic  reminding  us 
naturally  of  our  future  guide  Salvatore,  I  asked  Si- 
gnore  Politi  to  give  us  some  information  as  to  how 


THE   SPERONARA  307 

the  grace  of  God  had  touched  him.  Instead  of  reply- 
ing to  my  inquiry  our  host  proposed  to  tell  us  of  an 
incident  which  had  happened  some  seven  or  eight 
years  earlier  at  Castrogiovanni.  Not  wishing  to  lose 
reality  for  a  shadow  we  accepted  at  once,  and  with- 
out further  preamble  than  to  call  for  coffee  and 
give  orders  that  we  were  not  to  be  disturbed  under 
any  pretext  whatsoever,  Signore  Politi  told  us  the 
following  tale. 


X 

COLONEL   SANTA-CROCE 

ON  the  20th  of  July,  1826,  at  six  oY-lock  in  the 
evening,  not  only  was  the  court-room  of  Cas- 
trogiovanni  crowded  with  inquisitive  persons,  but  the 
neighbouring  streets  were  blocked  by  a  flood  of  men 
and  women  who,  unable  to  get  a  place  in  the  justice 
hall,  were  waiting  outside  to  hear  the  verdict.  This 
verdict  was  of  the  utmost  importance  to  the  whole 
population  of  central  Sicily.  The  accused  man,  who 
was  now  before  the  judges,  made  part,  it  was  asserted, 
of  the  band  of  the  famous  captain  Luigi  Lana,  which 
appearing  sometimes  on  the  road  from  Catania  to 
Palermo,  sometimes  on  that  from  Catania  to  Girgenti, 
and  occasionally  on  both  at  the  same  time,  scrupu- 
lously robbed  and  stripped  every  traveller  who  had 
the  imprudence  to  take  either  of  those  routes. 

Signore  Luigi  Lana  was  one  of  those  bandit  chiefs 
that  are  found  no  longer  except  in  Sicily  and  at 
the  Opera-Comique,  —  robbers  who  rush  to  the  high- 
roads to  redress  the  abuses  of  swiety,  and  restore 
some  equality  between  the  favours  and  disfavours  of 
fortune.  A  score  of  persons  had  had  personal  deal- 
ings with  him  ;  but  out  of  the  twenty  descriptions  of 
him  given  by  those  persons  there  were  not  two  alike. 
One  said  he  was  a  fine,  handsome  young  man  of  four 
or  five  and  twenty,  with  fair  hair  and  the  look  of  a 


THE  SPERONARA  309 

woman ;  others  declared  he  was  a  man  of  forty  to 
forty-five,  with  strongly  marked  features,  olive  skin, 
and  black  and  close-curling  hair.  Some  said  they 
had  seen  him  enter  churches  and  say  his  prayers  with 
a  compunction  that  put  the  most  fervent  monks  to 
shame ;  others  had  heard  him  utter  blasphemies  fit 
to  rend  the  heavens,  and  held  him  to  be  a  wicked  and 
lost  reprobate.  There  were  also  some,  but  these,  it 
must  be  owned,  were  few  in  number,  who  said  he 
was  a  more  honest  man  than  those  who  sought  to 
catch  him  and  hang  him,  and  a  more  rigid  observer 
of  a  simple  verbal  promise  than  many  commercial 
persons  are  of  written  obligations  ;  those  who  thought 
thus  produced  a  fact  which  effectually  proved  that 
Signore  Luigi  Lana  never  jested  in  matters  concern- 
ing his  promised  word.  Here  is  the  fact  on  which 
they  based  the  good  opinion  they  had  formed  and 
proclaimed  touching  this  singular  personage. 

One  day  when  he  was  being  pursued,  he  found  a 
refuge  in  the  house  of  a  rich  Sicilian  noble  named 
the  Marchese  di  Villalba.  On  leaving  him  Luigi, 
being  grateful,  promised  the  marquis  that  he  and  his 
should  henceforth  travel  in  Sicily  in  perfect  safety. 
Confiding  in  this  promise,  the  marquis  soon  after 
sent  his  man  of  business  to  make  a  payment  at  Cef- 
alu  ;  but  between  l*oli//i  and  Collesano  the  steward 
was  stopped  by  a  robber.  In  vain  the  poor  devil 
said  that  he  belonged  to  the  Marchese  di  Villalba 
and  that  the  said  Marchese  had  a  safe-conduct  from 
the  captain  for  himself  and  all  his  people.  The  bandit 
listened  to  none  of  these  assertions  and  left  the  poor 
steward  as  naked  as  a  worm.  Seeing  the  impossibil- 


310          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

ity  of  going  farther,  the  steward  returned  on  his 
steps  and  asked  shelter  in  the  first  house  he  came 
to  in  Poli/zi ;  thence  he  wrote  to  his  master  of  the 
misfortune  which  had  befallen  him  and  asked  his 
instructions.  The  marquis,  who  did  not  care  to  go 
and  summon  Lana  to  keep  the  promise  he  had  made 
him  and  then  had  broken  so  immediately,  was  in  the 
act  of  writing  to  his  poor  steward  to  return  to  the 
chateau,  when  he  received  two  sacks  brought  by  an 
unknown  man,  who  left  them,  saying  they  were  sent 
to  the  marquis  by  Captain  Luigi  Lana.  The  mar- 
quis opened  them.  The  first  contained  the  money 
taken  from  the  steward,  the  second,  the  head  of  the 
robber.  At  the  same  time  the  steward  received  at 
the  house  where  he  had  taken  refuge,  by  another 
unknown  messenger,  the  clothes  of  which  he  had 
been  stripped.  From  that  day  forth  no  bandit  ever 
ventured  to  rub  against  the  Marchese  di  Villalba,  or 
any  of  his  household. 

Well,  as  I  have  said,  on  the  20th  of  July,  1826,  a 
man  was  being  tried  in  the  court-room  of  Castrogio- 
vanni  on  suspicion  of  belonging  to  the  band  of  Luigi 
Lana,  and  of  having  murdered  an  English  traveller 
two  months  earlier,  that  is  to  say,  on  the  18th  of 
May,  between  Centorbi  and  Paterno.  As  the  Eng- 
lishman died  two  days  after  the  four  stab-wounds 
he  had  received,  there  was  no  opportunity  of  con- 
fronting him  with  the  supposed  guilty  partv.  But 
before  expiring,  the  victim,  who  had  maintained 
throughout  a  coolness  and  self-possession  worthy  of 
the  land  in  which  he  was  born,  gave  so  precise  a 
description  of  his  murderer  that  six  weeks  after  the 


THE  SPERONARA  311 

Englishman's  death  they  were  able  to  capture  the 
guilty  man. 

When  I  say  the  guilty  man,  I  ought  to  say  simply 
the  accused  man,  for  opinions  were  much  divided  as 
to  the  guilt  of  the  individual  who  was  now  before 
Signore  Bartolommeo,  the  judge  of  Castrogiovanni. 
In  fact,  in  spite  of  the  testimony  of  the  dying  Eng- 
lishman, and  in  spite  of  the  identity  of  his  descrip- 
tion with  the  features  of  the  accused  man,  the  latter 
maintained  that  he  was  the  victim  of  a  resemblance, 
and  that  on  the  very  day  of  the  murder  he  was  in 
the  harbour  of  Palermo,  where,  at  the  time,  he 
was  working  as  a  porter.  Unfortunately,  Signore 
Bartolommeo,  the  judge,  seemed  to  have  sided  with 
the  number  of  persons  who  were  little  inclined  to 
believe  this  denial,  a  fact  which  left,  as  can  readily 
be  seen,  very  little  hope  for  the  poor  devil,  whose 
only  plea  was  an  alibi  he  could  not  prove. 

The  matter  stood  thus,  and  the  populace  were 
waiting,  expecting  every  moment  to  hear  the  verdict, 
when  a  handsome  young  man  of  twenty-eight  to 
thirty  years  of  age,  in  the  uniform  of  an  English 
colonel,  followed  by  two  servants,  like  himself  on 
horseback,  rode  into  Castrogiovanni,  coming  from 
the  direction  of  Palermo,  and  stopped  at  the  Albergo 
dei  Ciclopi,  kept  by  the  worthy  Gaetano  Pacca.  As 
travellers  of  that  quality  were  rare  in  Castrogio- 
vanni, Gaetano  Pacca  hastened  himself  to  the  door, 
and  yielded  to  no  one  the  honour  of  holding  the  stran- 
ger's bridle  while  the  rider  dismounted.  The  officer, 
who,  as  I  have  said,  was  followed  by  two  servants, 
seemed  at  first  opposed  to  this  excess  of  politeness, 


312  JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

then,  observing  that  the  landlord  insisted,  and  not 
wishing  to  refuse  such  a  trifle,  he  dismounted  \vith 
much  grace  and  entered  the  inn,  flicking  off  as  he  did 
so,  with  his  riding  whip,  the  dust  on  his  boots 
and  trousers. 

"  I  am  the  very  humble  servant  of  your  Excel- 
lency,11 said  the  landlord,  who,  having  flung  the 
bridle  of  the  horse  to  his  hostler,  entered  the  inn 
behind  the  stranger,  "  and  I  shall  be  eternally  proud 
that  a  gentleman  of  the  rank  of  your  Excellency  has 
stopped  at  the  Albergo  dei  Ciclopi.  Your  Excel- 
lency has  no  doubt  taken  a  long  ride,  and  a  long 
ride  rouses  the  appetite.  What  shall  I  serve  your 
Excellency  for  dinner?"" 

"  My  dear  Signore  Pacca,"  said  the  stranger, 
speaking  Italian  with  a  strong  Maltese  accent,  and 
with  a  haughty  air,  which  cut  short  the  rather  famil- 
iar politeness  of  the  landlord,  "  have  the  goodness, 
in  the  first  place,  to  reply  to  a  question  I  wish  to 
ask  you ;  after  which  we  will  return  to  the  proposal 
you  are  kind  enough  to  make  to  me." 

"I-am  at  the  orders  of  your  Excellency."" 

"  Very  good.  I  wish  to  know  how  many  miles  it 
is  from  Castrogiovanni  to  the  chateau  of  my  friend 
the  Prince  of  Paterno;" 

"  Your  Excellency  surely  does  not  mean  to  take 
such  a  long  ride  to-day,  and  especially  not  at  this 
hour  ?  " 

"  Excuse  me,  my  dear  Pacca,"  said  the  stranger, 
in  the  same  rather  scoffing  tone  noticeable  already 
in  his  manner  and  words,  "  but  do  you  not  perceive 
that  you  are  answering  my  question  with  another 


THE  SPERONARA  313 

question?  I  asked  you  how  many  miles  it  is  from 
here  to  the  chateau  of  the  Prince  of  Paterno  ;  do 
you  understand  me  ?  " 

"  Seventeen  miles,  your  Excellency."" 

"  Very  good  ;  with  my  horse  that  is  an  affair  of  less 
than  three  hours;  if  I  leave  at  eight  o'clock  I  shall 
he  there  before  midnight.  So  prepare  my  dinner, 
and  that  of  my  servants,  and  feed  our  horses." 

"Lord  God!"  exclaimed  the  innkeeper,  "your 
Excellency  surely  does  not  mean  to  travel  by  night  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Your  Excellency  must  know  that  the  roads  are 
not  safe." 

The  stranger  laughed  with  a  look  of  inexpressible 
contempt ;  then,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "  What 
is  there  to  fear?"  he  asked,  continuing  to  flick  the 
dust  from  his  trousers  with  his  whip. 

"  What  is  there  to  fear !  Your  Excellency  asks 
that  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  ask  it." 

"  Has  your  Excellency  never  heard  tell  of  Luigi 
Lana  ?  " 

"  Luigi  Lana  ?    who  is  he  ?  " 

"  He  is  the  most  terrible  bandit,  your  Excellencv, 
who  ever  appeared  in  Sicily." 

"  Really  ? "  said  the  stranger,  in  his  bantering 
tone. 

"  And  especially  at  this  moment  whtyi  he  is  much 
exasperated,"  added  the  landlord.  "  1 11  answer  for 
it,  he  wouldn't  give  quarter  ty>  any  one." 

"  Why  is  he  exasperated,  my  good  Pacca  ?  Come, 
tell  me  about  it." 


314  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  Because  they  are  trying  at  this  moment  one  of 
his  band." 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  Here,  in  the  court-room,  your  Excellency." 

"  Of  course  the  rascal  will  be  condemned  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  so.  Excellency." 

"  Why  are  you  afraid  of  it,  Signore  Gaetano  ?  " 

"  Why  ?  because,  your  Excellency,  Luigi  Lana  is  a 
man  who  would  set  fire  to  all  four  corners  of  Castro- 
giovanni  to  avenge  himself." 

The  stranger  burst  out  laughing. 

*'  May  I  know  why  your  Excellency  laughs  ?  "  asked 
the  innkeeper,  amazed. 

"  I  laugh  because  one  man  of  spirit  can  make 
eight  or  ten  thousand  cowards  like  you  tremble," 
replied  the  stranger,  with  a  more  contemptuous  air 
than  ever.  "  So,"  he  continued,  after  a  moment's 
pause,  "  you  think  this  man  will  certainly  be 
condemned  ?  " 

"  I  have  n't  a  doubt  of  it,  Excellency." 

"  I  am  sorry  I  did  not  get  here  earlier,"  said  the 
stranger,  as  if  to  himself;  "I  .should  like  to  have 
seen  the  figure  the  fellow  cut  on  being  condemned." 

"Perhaps  there  is  still  time,"  said  Pacca;  "and 
if  your  Excellency  would  like  to  amuse  yourself  that 
way  while  dinner  is  getting  ready,  I  will  write  a  line 
to  the  Judge  Bartolommeo,  whose  foster-brother  I 
have  the  honour  to  be  ;  and  I  do  not  doubt  that 
on  my  introduction  he  will  place  your  Excellency  on 
the  bench  of  lawyers." 

"  Thank  vou,  my  friend,"  said  the  stranger,  rising 
and  going  to  the  door  ;  "thank  you,  but  it  is  prob- 


THE   SPERONARA  315 

ably  too  late  ;  I  hear  a  great  noise  of  people  in  the 
streets;  the  verdict  has  no  doubt  been  given." 

The  crowd,  which  ten  minutes  earlier  was  press- 
ing round  the  court-room,  was  now  dispersing 
through  the  streets  with  shouts  of  "  Death  !  death!11 
issuing  from  four  or  five  thousand  throats.  The 
prisoner,  in  spite  of  his  reiterated  denials,  having  no 
witnesses  on  his  behalf,  was  declared  guilty  and 
sentenced  to  be  hung. 

The  young  colonel  stood  in  the  doorway  till  the 
throng,  which  he  gazed  at  frowning  and  gnawing  his 
moustache,  had  passed  by  ;  then,  when  the  street 
had  again  become  almost  solitary,  save  for  two  or 
three  lingering  groups  here  and  there,  he  turned  to 
the  innkeeper,  who  stood  respectfully  behind  him, 
standing  on  tiptoe  in  the  effort  to  look  over  his 
shoulder. 

"  When  do  you  think  that  man  will  be  executed, 
friend  Pacca  ?  "  asked  the  stranger. 

"  Day  after  to-morrow  morning,  no  doubt,""  replied 
Pacca ;  "  to-day  sentence,  to-night  confession,  to- 
morrow chapclk  ardentc,  next  day  gibbet." 

"  At  what  hour  ?  " 

"  Eight  o'clock  ;  that's  the  usual  time." 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  have  a  fancy  ! "  exclaimed  the 
colonel. 

"  And  what  may  that  be,  Excellency  ?  " 

"  Why,  as  I  missed  seeing  the  fellow  condemned, 
I  should  like  to  see  him  hanged." 

"Nothing  easier;  your  Excellency  can  start  to- 
morrow morning,  pay  your  visit  to  the  Prince  of 
Paterno,  and  be  back  here  to-morrow  evening." 


316          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  You  speak  like  Saint  John  of  the  Golden  Mouth, 
my  dear  Pacca,"  replied  the  colonel,  pulling  out  his 
cambric  shirt-frill  from  his  British  uniform  ;  "  I  will 
do  as  you  say.  Therefore  get  ready  my  dinner  and 
my  room  ;  try  to  have  them,  I  '11  not  say  good,  but 
passable.  I  shall  leave  in  the  morning  and  return 
at  night.  During  that  time  get  me  a  good  place  to 
see  the  execution, — a  window  for  instance;  I  will 
pay  whatever  is  asked." 

"  I  can  do  better  than  that,  Excellency." 

"How  so?" 

"  Your  Excellency  knows  that  it  is  customary 
for  the  judge  to  be  present  at  executions,  on  a 
platform." 

"  Ah  !  the  custom,  is  it  ?  No,  I  did  not  know  it  — 
no  matter,  go  on." 

"  I  will  ask  the  judge,  whose  friend  I  have  the 
honour  to  be,  to  keep  a  place  beside  him  for  your 
Excellency." 

"Capital!  And  in  return  I  promise  you,  if  you 
obtain  that  place  for  me,  to  pay  your  bill  without 
verifying  the  items.  Now,  while  waiting  for  dinner, 
which,  I  am  afraid,  will  be  long  in  coming,  have  you 
nothing  you  can  give  me  to  read  to  pass  the  time  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  Excellency,  oh,  yes  ! "  replied  Pacca, 
opening  a  cupboard  where  a  few  shabby  and  torn 
books  were  mouldering.  "Here  is  the  'Guide  to 
Travellers  hi  Sicily,"1  by  that  illustrious  learned  man, 
Francesco  Ferrara;  here  are  two  volumes  of  'Gay 
and  Lively  Poems,1  by  the  Abbe  Meli  ;  here's  a 
treatise  on  the  Jettatura  by  Signore  Nicola  Va- 
letta  ;  here  ""s  the  '  History  of  the  Terrible  Bandit, 


THE   SPERONARA  317 

Luigi   Lana,1  adorned  with  his  portrait  painted  from 
life  —  1' 

"  Ah  !  the  devil !  my  dear  landlord,  give  me  that; 
I  am  curious  to  know  what  the  man  you  threaten 
me  with  looks  like." 

"  There  he  is,  Excellency,  look  at  him.1" 

"  The  deuce !  Well,  he  is  a  villanous-looking  fel- 
low, your  friend  Luigi  Lana,  with  his  big  moustache, 
his  eyes  sticking  out  of  his  head,  his  unkempt  hair 
under  that  sugar-loaf  hat,  and  the  pistols  in  his  belt." 

"  But  this  picture  of  him,  terrible  as  it  is,  is  noth- 
ing to  the  original ;  I  can  assure  your  Excellency  of 
that." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  him,  my  good  Pa,cca  ? ""  asked 
the  young  colonel,  who  sat  tilting  his  chair  and 
looking  at  the  innkeeper  in  his  sarcastic  way. 

"No,  Excellency ;  no,  I  have  not  seen  him  ;  but  I 
have  lodged  poor  devils  of  travellers  who  have  met 
him  to  their  sorrow,  and  they  have  described  him  to 
me  from  head  to  foot."" 

"  Pooh !  fear  troubled  their  sight ;  they  must 
have  been  exaggerating.  However,  my  dear  land- 
lord, as  I  have  what  I  want,  go  and  attend  to  my 
dinner,  while  I  see  if  the  deeds  of  this  terrible 
personage  correspond  with  his  face." 

"Immediately,  your  Excellency,  immediately." 

The  traveller  made  a  sign  with  his  head,  indicating 
that  he  knew  perfectly  well  what  to  expect  of  an 
Italian's  subito,  and  stretching  himself  out  on  two 
chairs,  he  proceeded  with  truly  Southern  indifl'erence 
to  begin  his  reading. 

Doubtless,  in  spite  of  the  contempt  with  which  he 


318          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

opened  the  book,  the  colonel  found  something  in  it 
to  interest  him,  for  when  the  landlord  returned  in 
half  an  hour  he  found  him  in  the  same  attitude  and 
occupied  in  the  same  way.  If  the  colonel  had  em- 
ployed his  time  well,  so  had  the  landlord.  After 
talking  with  the  master  he  had  talked  with  the  ser- 
vants, and  learned  from  them  that  the  traveller 
whom  he  had  the  honour  of  lodging  was  a  young 
Maltese,  who,  having  a  fortune  of  one  hundred  thou- 
sand francs  a  year,  had  purchased  a  colonelcy  in  a 
British  regiment.  The  next  thing  was  to  know  the 
colonel's  name.  As  for  this,  the  proprietor  of  the 
Albergo  dei  Ciclopi  had  a  simple  method  of  ascer- 
taining it.  He  took  his  register,  according  to  Italian 
custom,  for  the  traveller  to  sign. 

The  colonel  raised  liis  eyes,  perceived  the  landlord, 
and  seeing  the  register,  guessed  his  object.  Stretch- 
ing out  his  hand  he  took  the  pen  and  wrote  at  the 
place  indicated  by  Gaetano's  forefinger:  "Colonel 
Santa-Croce." 

Gaetano,  amply  satisfied,  now  knew  all  he  wanted 
to  know. 

"  If  your  Excellency  would  be  pleased  to  sit  down 
to  table,"  he  said ;  "  the  soup  is  served.11 

"  Ah  ! "  said  the  young  colonel,  "  why  did  not  you 
tell  me  sooner  ?  I  would  have  spared  you  the  trouble 
of  removing  your  table  service." 

"  Removing  my  table  service,  your  Excellency  !  Is 
it  not  arranged  to  your  taste  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  my  dear  host;  oh,  yes;  but  I  have  a 
habit  of  wiping  my  fingers  with  Holland  damask, 
and  eating  off  silver  plate ;  it  is  not  that  your  nap- 


THE  SPEIIONARA  319 

kins  are  not  clean,  and  your  pewter  forks  quite 
bright,  but  with  your  permission  I  will  not  use 
them.  Call  my  servant." 

The  landlord  obeyed  instantly,  albeit  rather  humil- 
iated at  the  affront  put  upon  him  by  the  colonel ; 
but  as  the  latter  had  promised  not  to  verify  his  bill 
he  determined  to  wipe  out  the  insult  by  its  items. 

Five  minutes  later  the  colonel's  valet  entered  with 
a  case  as  large  as  a  trunk,  out  of  which  he  took  silver 
plates  and  dishes,  knives  and  forks,  and  a  silver-gilt 
goblet,  all  marked  with  the  colonel's  arms.  His 
master  then  sat  down  to  dinner  with  the  disdainful 
air  of  a  prince,  scarcely  tasted  each  dish,  and  at  the 
close  of  the  meal,  seeing  that  the  weather  was  fine 
and  the  moonlight  superb,  he  started  to  take  a  turn 
through  the  town.  Pacca  offered  to  accompany  him, 
but  the  colonel  replied  that  he  preferred  to  be  alone. 

Nevertheless,  as  the  landlord  was  by  nature  very 
inquisitive,  he  left  his  inn  ten  minutes  after  his  guest, 
on  pretence  of  taking  a  walk  himself,  but  really  in 
the  hope  of  meeting  him.  Now,  although  Castro- 
giovanni  has  but  two  or  three  principal  streets,  the 
expectation  of  the  worthy  innkeeper  was  balked;  he 
saw  nothing  that  even  resembled  the  haughty  form 
and  bearing  of  the  young  colonel.  As  he  passed 
before  the  prison,  he  saw  a  poor  Franciscan  monk 
entering  it,  —  a  man  of  God,  on  his  way  to  prepare 
the  criminal  for  death. 

The  colonel  did  not  return  to  the  inn  till  mid- 
night. Gaetano  Pacca  longed  to  ask  him  what  he 
could  find  of  interest  in  Castrogiovanni  to  keep  him 
out  so  late  ;  but  as  he  opened  his  mouth  to  ask  that 


320          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

question,  the  young  man  let  fall  upon  him  so  dis- 
dainful a  glance,  with  an  order  to  have  him  waked  at 
six  in  the  morning,  that  the  worthy  Gaetano  felt  the 
words  die  in  his  mouth,  and  he  bowed  in  sign  of 
obedience  without  proffering  a  single  word. 

At  seven  in  the  morning  the  colonel,  after  swal- 
lowing a  cup  of  black  coffee  only,  rode  off',  as  he  had 
said,  for  the  castle  of  the  Prince  of  Paterno,  taking 
with  him  one  valet,  and  leaving  the  other  to  look 
after  his  baggage  and  remind  Gaetano  Pacca  of  his 
promise  to  obtain  from  the  judge  a  place  beside  him 
from  which  to  witness  the  execution. 

An  execution  was  not  a  common  thing  at  Castro- 
giovanni  ;  consequently,  the  day  that  preceded  that 
of  the  poor  condemned  man  was  one  of  agitation  ; 
everybody  roamed  the  streets  ;  the  bells  were  tolled  ; 
those  who  had  news  from  the  judge  or  the  jailer  were 
in  demand.  It  was  thought  that  the  criminal,  hav- 
ing no  longer  any  hope  of  lessening  the  severity  of 
his  punishment  except  by  confession,  would  make 
revelations,  so  that  the  people  might  know  something 
positive  about  the  man  and  about  his  captain,  the 
terrible  Luigi  Lana.  This  hope  was  foiled  ;  not  only 
did  the  criminal  make  no  revelation,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, he  continued  to  protest  his  innocence,  repeat- 
ing incessantly  that  on  the  day  of  the  murder  he  was 
in  Palermo,  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from 
the  scene  of  the  crime.  The  confessor  himself  could 
draw  nothing  else  from  him,  and  the  venerable  monk 
left  the  prison  saying  he  feared  that  human  justice, 
intending  to  punish  a  guilty  man,  was  really  making 
a  martyr. 


THE  SPERONARA  321 

The  day  went  by  in  vehement  discussions  as  to  the 
guilt  or  innocence  of  the  condemned  man  ;  at  dark 
the  windows  of  the  mortuary  chapel,  where  he  was  to 
pass  the  night,  were  seen  lighted  up.  At  ten  o'clock 
that  evening  the  Franciscan  monk  who  had  ministered 
to  him  in  his  cell  the  day  before,  was  taken  to  the 
chapel  and  remained  with  the  prisoner  an  hour  and 
a  half.  After  his  departure,  the  condemned  man, 
who  had  been  much  agitated  during  the  day,  ap- 
peared more  tranquil. 

At  midnight  the  colonel  returned  with  his  valet 
to  the  Albergo  dei  Ciclopi,  and  finding  the  landlord 
sitting  up  to  receive  him,  he  told  him,  first,  to  take 
good  care  of  his  horses,  who  had  made  a  long  trip  ; 
then  he  inquired  if  his  order  about  obtaining  a  seat 
had  been  executed.  Gaetano  replied  that  his  friend 
the  judge  had  been  only  too  happy  to  do  something 
agreeable  to  his  Excellency,  and  that  on  the  morrow 
he  would  give  him  the  seat  beside  him  on  the  plat- 
form that  he  desired. 

Throughout  that  night  the  bells  were  tolled  to 
remind  good  souls  to  pray  for  the  man  about  to  die. 

At  five  in  the  morning  the  streets  leading  from 
the  prison  to  the  place  of  execution  were  thronged 
with  people,  the  windows  were  a  wall  of  heads,  and 
even  the  roofs  cracked  with  the  weight  of  spectators. 
At  seven  o'clock  the  judge  took  his  seat  on  the  plat- 
form with  two  clerks,  the  commandant  of  the  guard, 
and  the  commissary  of  police,  and,  as  he  had  prom- 
ised Gaetano,  a  seat  was  reserved  beside  him  for  the 
colonel.  At  half-past  seven  the  latter  arrived ;  he 
thanked  the  judge  very  graciously,  with  the  air  of 


322          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

a  great  seigneur,  for  his  kind  attention,  and,  having 
looked  at  a  magnificent  watch  set  round  with  dia- 
monds to  see  if  he  should  have  to  wait  long,  he  sat 
down  in  the  place  of  honour  among  the  public 
authorities  of  Castrogiovanni. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  bells  began  to  ring  with  re- 
doubled unction ;  this  was  the  signal  that  the  con- 
demned man  was  leaving  the  prison.  A  few  minutes 
later  sounds  of  his  approach  were  heard.  The  exe- 
cutioner, who  preceded  him,  appeared  on  horseback  ; 
then  four  guards,  inarching  behind  that  official ;  then 
the  condemned  man  himself,  mounted  on  an  ass  with 
his  face  to  the  tail  of  the  animal,  thus  proceeding 
backward  that  he  might  keep  in  sight  the  coffin 
which  was  borne  by  the  Brothers  of  the  Miseri- 
cordia ;  after  them  the  whole  population  of  Castro- 
giovanni brought  up  the  rear. 

The  condemned  man  seemed  to  listen  in  a  very 
absent  manner  to  the  exhortations  of  the  monk  who 
accompanied  him.  It  was  said  in  the  crowd  that 
this  was  because  the  monk  was  not  the  same  as  the 
one  who  had  ministered  to  him  in  prison  ;  the  latter 
had  not  come  at  the  time  expected,  and  they  were 
forced  to  send  in  haste  for  another  that  the  con- 
demned man  might  not  die  without  the  succour  of 
religion.  However  that  may  have  been,  the  poor 
devil,  as  we  have  said,  seemed  very  uneasy  and  kept 
casting  right  and  left  among  the  crowd  glances  that 
plainly  showed  the  anxiety  of  his  mind.  From  time 
to  time,  unlike  the  usual  way  of  criminals,  who  spare 
themselves  the  sight  as  long  as  possible,  he  turned 
to  look  at  the  gibbet,  calculating,  perhaps,  how  long 


THE   SPERONARA  323 

he  still  h<od  to  live.  Suddenly,  on  arriving  before 
the  judge's  platform  and  just  as  the  confessor  was 
helping  him  to  dismount  from  his  ass,  he  gave  a  loud 
cry,  and  motioning  with  his  head,  for  his  hands  were 
bound,  at  the  colonel  seated  beside  the  judge,  — 

"  Father  ! "  he  exclaimed,  addressing  the  monk, 
"  father,  there  is  a  signore  who  can  save  me  if  he 
will.11 

"  Which  one  ?  "  asked  the  monk,  in  astonishment. 

"That  one  next  to  the  judge,  father,  —  the  one 
with  the  red  uniform  and  the  colonel's  epaulets. 
It  is  the  good  God  himself  who  has  brought  him 
in  my  way,  father.  Miracle !  miracle  !  " 

"  Miracle  !  miracle  !  "  echoed  the  crowd,  without  as 
yet  knowing  what  it  meant.  This,  however,  did  not 
prevent  the  executioner  from  approaching  the  pris- 
oner in  order  to  begin  his  duties.  But  the  confessor 
placed  himself  between  them. 

"  Stop  ! "  he  said,  "  in  the  name  of  God,  stop  !  — 
Judge,"   he  continued,  "the  prisoner  says   that   he 
recognixes,  sitting    beside  you,  a    witness    who  can 
save  his  life  by  proving  that  he  is  innocent.     Judge, 
I  adjure  you  to  hear  this  witness." 

"Who  is  he?"  asked  the  judge  rising  from  his 
seat. 

"  Colonel  Santa-Croce  !  Colonel  Santa-Croce  !  " 
cried  the  prisoner. 

"I?"  said  the  colonel  in  astonishment,  rising 
also.  "  I,  my  friend  ?  You  are  certainly  mistaken  ; 
for  though  you  know  my  name,  I  do  not  know 
you." 

"  You  do  not  know  him,  hey  ?"  asked  the  judge. 


324          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  replied  the  colonel,  after  look- 
ing with  great  attention  at  the  prisoner. 

"  I  thought  .so,"  said  the  judge,  shaking  his  head  ; 
"  it  is  one  of  the  usual  tricks  of  these  wretches." 

Then  he  sat  down,  and  made  a  sign  to  the  execu- 
tioner to  continue  his  duties. 

"  Colonel ! "  cried  the  prisoner,  "  colonel,  don't 
leave  me  to  die  thus  when  a  word  from  you  could 
save  me.  Colonel,  let  me  ask  you  a  question." 

"  Yes, yes,"  cried  the  crowd,  "  that's  only  fair;  let 
the  man  speak,  let  him  speak  !" 

"Judge,"  said  the  colonel,  "  I  think  that  humanity 
requires  us  to  grant  the  request  of  this  unfortunate 
man.  If  he  tries  to  deceive  us,  we  shall  soon  per- 
ceive it,  and  his  death  will  only  be  delayed  a  few 
moments." 

"  I  can  refuse  nothing  to  your  Excellency,"  replied 
the  judge  ;  "  but  really,  it  is  scarcely  worth  while,  be- 
lieve me,  colonel,  to  give  him  that  satisfaction." 

"  I  ask  it  for  my  own  conscience1  sake,"  said  the 
colonel. 

"  I  have  already  told  your  Excellency,  that  I  am 
at  your  orders,"  replied  the  judge,  rising;  then  he 
added,  "  Guards,  bring  the  prisoner  here." 

They  brought  the  unfortunate  man.  He  was  pale 
as  death,  and  trembling  in  all  his  limbs. 

"  Well,  you  rascal,"  said  the  judge,  "  here  you  are 
in  presence  of  his  Excellency  ;  speak  out." 

"  Excellency,"  said  the  condemned  man,  "  don't 
you  remember  that  on  the  18th  of  last  May  you 
landed  at  Palermo,  coming  from  Naples?" 

"  I  cannot  fix  the  day  as  precisely  as  you  do,  my 


THE  SPERONARA  325 

friend ;  but  it  is  true  that  about  that  time  I 
landed  in  Sicily."" 

"  lint  don't  you  remember,  Excellency,  the  porter 
who  carried  your  trunks  on  a  little  hand-cart  from 
the  quay  to  the  Hotel  des  Quatres  Saisons,  where 
you  put  up  ?  " 

"  I  did  certainly  put  up  at  the  Hotel  des  Quatres 
Saisons,11  replied  the  colonel ;  "  but  I  must  own  I  have 
entirely  forgotten  the  face  of  the  man  who  conducted 
me  there.11 

"  But  what  you  can't  have  forgotten,  Excellency, 
is  that  in  passing  the  door  of  a  locksmith  one  of  the 
workmen  came  out  carrying  an  iron  bar  on  his 
shoulder  which  struck  me  a  blow  on  the  head, 
and  made  this  wound—  See!" 

And  thrusting  forward  his  head  he  showed  a 
wound,  scarcely  closed  as  yet,  at  the  side  of  his 
forehead. 

"  Yes,  you  are  right,  perfectly  right,11  said  the 
colonel.  "  I  remember  that  circumstance  as  if  it 
happened  yesterday.11 

"  And  in  proof  of  it,11  cried  the  prisoner,  joyfully, 
for  seeing  he  was  recognized  he  began  to  hope,  "  the 
proof  is  that,  generous  signore  that  you  are,  instead 
of  the  six  carlinos  I  asked  you,  you  gave  me  two 
onces.11 

"All  that  is  the  exact  truth,11  said  the  colonel, 
turning  to  the  judge  ;  "  but  we  can  get  better  infor- 
mation still.  I  carry  with  me  a  diary  in  which  I 
write  down  from  day  to  day  what  1  do.  It  will  be 
easy,  therefore,  to  make  sure  that  this  man  is  not 
giving  us  a  false  date.11 


326          JOURNEYS   WITH  DUMAS 

"  Look  for  it,  look  for  it,  colonel ! "  cried  the 
prisoner  ;  "  now  I  am  sure  of  my  safety  !  " 

The  colonel  took  out  and  opened  his  diary ;  look- 
ing it  over  until  he  came  to  the  date  mentioned,  he 
read  the  entry  aloud,  as  follows  : 

"  *  May  18th.  To-day  I  landed  in  Palermo  at  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  Took  on  the  quay  a  poor 
devil  who  got  wounded  in  carting  my  trunks.  Lodged 
at  the  Hotel  des  Quatres  Saisons.1 " 

"  There  !    you  see  ! "  cried  the  prisoner. 

"  I '  faith,  judge,"  said  the  colonel,  turning  towards 
the  Signore  Bartolommeo,  "if  the  murder  was 
really  committed  on  the  18th  of  May,  I  can  on  my 
honour  affirm  that  this  poor  man  who  is  accused 
of  it  was  at  Palermo  on  that  day,  where  he  was 
wounded,  as  my  note-book  says,  in  my  service. 
Now,  as  he  could  not  possibly  be  in  Palermo  and  at 
Centorbi  on  the  same  day,  he  is  necessarily  innocent.'1 

"  Innocent !   innocent !  "  cried  the  crowd. 

"  Yes,  innocent,  my  friends,  innocent !  "  cried  the 
prisoner.  "  I  felt  sure  that  God  would  work  a  miracle 
in  my  favour." 

"  Miracle  !    miracle  !  "   cried  the  crowd. 

"Well,  then,"  said  the  judge,  "we  will  send  him 
back  to  prison  and  proceed  to  another  inquiry." 

"  No  !  no  !  free  !  free  this  instant !  "  shouted  the 
people. 

At  these  words  part  of  the  crowd  rushed  upon 
the  platform,  carried  off'  the  prisoner,  and  unbound 
his  hands,  while  another  part  knocked  down  the 
gibbet  and  pursued  the  hangman,  pelting  him  with 
stones. 


THE  SPERONARA  327 

As  for  the  colonel,  he  was  carried  back  in  triumph 
to  the  Alberto  dei  Ciclopi. 

All  that  day  there  was  festival  at  Castrogiovanni ; 
and  when  the  colonel  quitted  the  town  at  midday 
he  and  his  horse  forced  a  passage  with  difficulty 
through  the  floods  of  people,  who  kissed  his  hands, 
crving  out :  "  Long  live  Colonel  Santa-Croce !  the 
saviour  of  the  innocent ! " 

As  for  the  lately  condemned  man,  as  everybody 
wanted  to  speak  to  him  and  hear  from  his  own  lips 
the  tale  of  his  adventure,  it  was  nearly  dark  before 
lie  got  any  freedom  at  all.  But  he  profited  instantly 
by  the  little  he  got  then  to  slip  up  a  dark  and  nar- 
row alley,  and  so  to  the  gate  of  the  town  ;  once 
outside  of  the  gate  he  ran  with  all  his  might  to  a 
gorge  in  the  mountains  and  disappeared. 

The  next  morning  the  judge  received  a  letter  from 
Luigi  Lana  in  which  the  bandit  chief  thanked  him 
for  his  kindness  in  giving  him  a  seat  beside  him  on 
his  platform  ;  also  he  begged  him  to  present  his 
compliments  to  his  friend  Gaetano  Pacca,  the  land- 
lord of  the  Albergo  dei  Ciclopi. 

But,  free  as  the  condemned  man  now  was,  the 
impression  produced  upon  his  mind  by  the  sight  of 
the  gibbet,  which  he  had,  so  to  speak,  laid  a  finger 
on,  had  been  so  real  and  so  profound  that  he  resolved, 
in  spite  of  the  dissuasions  of  his  comrades,  to  abandon 
the  life  he  had  led  so  far,  and  be  reconciled  with 
the  police.  The  monk  who  had  accompanied  him 
from  the  prison  to  the  scaffold  was  the  intermediary 
between  him  and  the  authorities.  His  petition  was 
transmitted  to  the  viceroy,  and  as  the  bandit  merely 


328          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

asked  that  his  life  be  spared,  promising  in  future  to 
Ix?  a  model  of  honesty,  his  request,  after  certain 
negotiations  between  the  monk  and  the  viceroy,  was 
granted,  on  one  condition,  namely  :  that  he  should 
make  honourable  amends,  bare-footed,  with  a  rope 
round  his  waist.  This  ceremony  took  place  in  Palermo, 
to  the  great  edification  of  all  faithful  souls. 

That  is  what  happened  at  Castrogiovanni  on  the 
20th  of  July,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand, 
eight  hundred  and  twenty-six. 

"  And  since  then,"  I  asked  of  Signore  Politi,  as 
soon  as  he  had  finished  his  tale,  "what  has  become, 
please  to  tell  me,  of  that  newly  honest  man  ?  " 

"  He  took  the  name  of  Salvatore,  doubtless  in 
memory  of  the  miraculous  manner  in  which  he  was 
saved  ;  he  became  a  muleteer,  in  order  to  keep  his 
pledge  of  earning  his  living  in  an  honourable  manner, 
and  if  what  I  have  now  told  you  does  not  give 
you  too  great  a  distrust  of  him,  he  will  have  the 
honour  to  be  your  guide  to-morrow  from  Girgenti  to 
Palermo." 


XI 

THE  INTERIOR   OF   SICILY 

THE  next  day,  in  spite  of  all  diligence,  we  did 
not  succeed  in  getting  off  until  nine  in  the 
morning.  I  had  ordered  an  extra  mule  for  Caina, 
but  when  he  saw  himself  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
perched  on  a  saddle  with  no  other  support  than  two 
stirrups  of  unequal  length,  he  declared  that  the 
bridle  seemed  to  him  too  insufficient  a  hold  to  dare 
to  trust  to  it  the  preservation  of  his  person.  Con- 
sequently, with  Salvatore's  help,  he  descended  to 
earth  and  the  mule  was  sent  away. 

During  this  time  all  our  belongings  were  loaded 
on  the  baggage  mule.  As  this  baggage  was  con- 
siderable, Cama  noticed  that  it  provided  a  flat  sur- 
face on  the  back  of  the  animal  of  three  or  four  feet 
in  diameter.  This  terrace  seemed  to  Cama  a  veri- 
table heaven  of  safety,  compared  to  the  saddle,  and 
he  asked  to  be  allowed  to  establish  himself  accord- 
ing to  his  fancy  on  the  little  platform.  Salvatore, 
on  being  consulted  as  to  whether  his  mule  could 
carry  this  additional  weight,  saw  no  objection  ;  so 
that  in  a  minute  more  Cama  found  himself  perched 
in  the  midst  of  our  baggage,  seated  after  the  manner 
of  tailors  and  rising  pyramidically  from  the  centre 
of  his  domain. 


330          JOURN7EYS  WITH   DUMAS 

We  had  been  advised  to  visit  the  Maccalubas. 
We  therefore  asked  Salvatore  to  take  the  road  that 
led  to  them  ;  but  he,  accustomed  to  such  requests,  had 
taken  it  of  his  own  accord,  and  we  were  already  a 
mile  and  a  half  on  our  way  there  when  we  asked  him 
to  take  it. 

The  Maccalubas  are  neither  more  nor  less  than 
little  mud  volcanoes,  in  number  about  thirty  or 
forty,  that  rise  from  a  boggy  plain.  Each  of  these 
miniature  volcanoes  is  a  foot  to  a  foot  and  a  half 
high ;  the  matter  that  issues  from  these  mole-hills  is 
a  sort  of  pasty  mud,  rust  colour,  very  cold,  and,  I 
am  told,  very  salt.  When  we  were  there  these  vol- 
canoes were  at  rest ;  that  is  to  say,  with  great  diffi- 
culty, and  with  efforts  that  seemed  to  exhaust  them, 
they  vomited  their  damp  lava  from  their  craters. 
Salvatore  assured  us  there  were  times  when  the  mud 
rose  one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high, 
and  the  whole  of  the  boggy  plain  heaved  like  the 
surface  of  the  sea.  We  saw  nothing  of  that  kind. 
On  the  contrary,  the  plain  was  very  quiet,  and  dry 
enough  to  enable  us  not  to  sink-in  more  than  two  or 
three  inches  when  walking  between  the  volcanoes. 
As  the  place,  in  spite  of  advice,  seemed  to  us  of 
moderate  interest  to  any  but  those  who  were  strong 
enough  in  geology  (which  we  were  not)  to  study  the 
causes  of  this  phenomenon,  we  made  but  a  short  stay 
and  continued  our  journey. 

Towards  eleven  o'clock  we  came  to  the  banks  of  a 
small  river.  As  the  path  we  were  on  was  intended 
only  for  litters,  mules,  and  foot-passengers,  there  was 
no  other  way  of  crossing  the  stream  than  by  ford- 


THE   SPERONARA  331 

ing  it.  I  invited  Salvatore  to  mount  behind  me ; 
but  as  it  was  very  warm  he  preferred  to  cross  tran- 
quilly, like  his  mule ;  that  is  to  say,  through  water 
that  was  up  to  his  waist. 

A  few  steps  beyond  the  river  we  came  to  a  species 
of  little  thicket  of  oleanders  surrounding  a  fountain. 
The  place  seemed  made  for  a  halt  for  breakfast,  so 
we  jumped  off  our  animals.  Cama  allowed  himself 
to  slide  from  the  top  of  his  baggage ;  Salvatore  heat 
the  bushes  to  drive  away  two  or  three  adders  and  a 
do/en  lixards,  and  we  ate  our  breakfast.  As  we  had 
invited  Salvatore  to  breakfast  with  us,  an  honour 
that  after  certain  preliminary  affectations  he  elided 
by  accepting,  he  became  towards  the  end  of  the  meal 
rather  more  communicative  than  he  had  been  at 
starting.  Jadin  profited  by  this  beginning  of  socia- 
bility to  ask  permission  to  make  his  portrait.  Salva- 
tore consented,  laughing,  draped  his  cloak  over  his 
left  shoulder,  leaned  on  the  pointed  stick  which  he 
used  to  jump  over  brooks  and  to  prick  his  mules, 
crossed  one  leg  over  the  other,  and  stood  before  Jadin 
with  the  immobility  and  self-possession  of  a  man 
accustomed  to  accede  to  such  demands. 

During  this  time  I  took  my  gun  and  beat  up  the 
neighbourhood;  an  unfortunate  rabbit  that  was  out 
of  its  hole  and  attempted  to  regain  it  instead  of  stay- 
ing quietly  in  its  form,  where  I  should  never  have 
noticed  it,  was  the  sole  trophy  of  my  expedition. 

This  was  an  occasion  for  Salvatore  to  ask  jxrmis- 
sion  to  examine  our  guns,  which  he  had  not  vet  dared 
to  tlo,  notwithstanding  his  evident  desire.  He  took 
them  and  turned  them  about  like  a  man  to  whom 


332          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

weapons  are  familiar ;  but  as  these  were  guns  of  the 
Lefaucheux  pattern,  the  mechanism  was  perfectly 
unknown  to  him.  I  was  not  sorry  to  show  him, 
while  seeming  to  satisfy  his  curiosity,  that  at  any 
reasonable  distance  I  should  not  miss  my  man ;  so  I 
changed  my  cartridges,  flung  two  piastres  into  the 
air,  and  touched  both.  Salvatore  went  and  picked 
up  the  coins,  saw  the  mark  of  the  lead  upon  them, 
and  nodded  his  head  in  worthy  appreciation  of  the 
shot  I  had  made.  I  proposed  to  him  to  do  the 
same  thing ;  he  answered  quite  simply  that  he  had 
never  been  a  good  shot  on  the  fly,  but  if  my  compan- 
ion would  lend  him  his  carbine  he  would  show  us 
what  he  could  do  at  a  mark.  As  the  carbine  was 
loaded  with  ball,  Jadin  put  it  at  once  into  his 
hands.  Salvatore  took  for  a  mark  a  little  white  stone 
the  she  of  an  egg,  which  lay  about  a  hundred  steps 
away  from  us  in  the  middle  of  the  path,  and  after 
aiming  with  an  attention  that  showed  the  impor- 
tance he  attached  to  success,  he  fired  his  shot  and 
broke  the  stone  to  atoms. 

This  caused  Jadin  and  me  to  make  the  moderately 
reassuring  reflection  that,  on  occasion,  Salvatore  also 
would  not  miss  his  man. 

As  for  Cama,  he  thought  of  nothing  else  than  of 
wrapping  his  rabbit  in  leaves  that  he  gathered  by 
the  fountain,  in  order  to  keep  it  fresh  until  the  din- 
ner hour. 

We  resumed  our  way.  The  miserable  little  fiumi- 
cello  that  we  had  just  crossed  made  more  twists  and 
turns  than  the  famous  Meander.  We  met  it  a  dozen 
times  in  less  than  nine  miles,  and  each  time  we 


THE  SPERONARA  333 

forded  it  as  l)efore.  During  this  whole  day  we  saw 
no  cultivated  land,  only  immense  plains  covered  with 
tall  herbage  burnt  by  the  sun,  in  the  midst  of  which 
rose,  now  and  then,  like  a  verdant  isle,  a  little  cabin 
surrounded  by  cactus,  pomegranates,  and  oleanders. 
For  two  or  three  hundred  feet  around  the  cabin 
the  soil  would  be  cleared,  and  we  saw  a  few  vege- 
tables raising  their  heads  out  of  the  ground ;  and 
these,  in  all  probability,  were  the  sole  food  of  the 
unfortunate  people  living  in  those  solitudes. 

We  advanced  until  five  in  the  afternoon,  seeing 
from  time  to  time  a  species  of  village  perched  on 
some  rocky  eminence,  the  path  by  which  it  could  be 
reached  being  quite  indistinguishable.  At  last,  from 
the  top  of  a  little  hill  Salvatore  pointed  out  to  us  a 
farmhouse  directly  on  our  way,  and  told  us  that  it 
was  there  we  must  pass  the  night.  A  league  or  so 
beyond  this  farmhouse  and  to  right  of  the  path,  on 
the  slope  of  a  mountain',  was  a  town  of  some  impor- 
tance called  Castro-Novo.  We  asked  Salvatore  why 
we  could  not  go  on  to  that  town  instead  of  stopping 
at  some  miserable  wayside  inn  where  we  should  find 
nothing  to  eat.  Salvatore  merely  replied  that  it 
would  take  us  too  far  out  of  our  way.  As  longer 
insistence  might  make  our  guide  think  we  distrusted 
him,  which  would  have  been  very  ridiculous  after  our 
voluntary  choice  of  his  services,  we  said  no  more  ; 
resolving,  inasmuch  as  we  had  taken  him,  to  leave 
matters  whollv  to  him,  merely  asking  —  that  we  might 
at  least  know  where  we  were  going  to  pass  the  night 
—  the  name  of  that  hovel.  He  answered  that  it  was 
called  Fon  tana-Fred  da. 


334.  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

It  was  really  the  most  magnificently  cut-throat 
place  I  ever  saw  in  my  life,  isolated  in  a  little  gorge, 
without  an  inclosing  wall,  or  a  single  door  or  window 
that  could  be  shut.  As  for  those  who  inhabited  it, 
our  presence  apparently  did  not  seem  to  them  an 
event  worthy  of  curiosity,  for  we  stopped  at  the  door, 
got  off  our  mules,  and  entered  the  first  room  without 
seeing  a  soul.  It  was  only  on  opening  a  side  door 
that  I  saw  a  woman  rocking  a  child  on  her  knees  and 
singing  a  slow,  monotonous  ditty.  I  spoke  to  her; 
she  answered,  without  moving,  in  so  strange  a  patois 
that  I  renounced  all  attempt  at  conversing  with  her 
and  returned  to  Salvatore,  who,  in  default  of  a  stable- 
boy,  was  unloading  his  mules  himself.  I  asked  him 
to  attend  in  person  to  our  dinner  and  our  lodging. 
He  answered,  shaking  his  head,  that  we  must  not 
count  much  on  either  one  or  the  other,  but  he  would 
do  his  best. 

Returning  to  the  first  room  I  found  Cama  in  de- 
spair. He  had  made  a  search  and  found  neither 
saucepan,  nor  gridiron,  nor  spit.  I  invited  him  to 
first  get  something  to  boil,  roast,  or  broil,  and  we 
would  talk  about  the  utensils  later. 

After  tying  his  mules  to  the  manger  Salvatore 
made  his  appearance  and  went  to  the  inner  room, 
but  returned  an  instant  later  to  say  that  the  master 
of  the  house  having  gone  to  Secocca,  and  his  wife 
being  half  idiotic,  we  should  have  to  do  for  ourselves 
as  if  the  house  were  deserted.  Provisions  were 
limited,  he  informed  us,  to  a  flask  of  rancid  oil  and 
a  few  chestnuts  ;  as  for  bread,  there  was  none. 

If  this  language  was  not  reassuring,  at  any  rate  it 


THE  SPERONARA  335 

was  perfectly  clear.  Each  of  us  began  an  independ- 
ent search,  collecting  what  he  could.  Jadin,  after 
half-an-hour's  hunt  among  the  rocks  returned  with  a 
species  of  dove ;  Salvatore  had  twisted  the  neck  of 
an  old  lien  ;  I  had  found  in  a  shed  at  the  back  of  the 
house,  three  eggs ;  and  Cania  had  ransacked  the 
garden  and  brought  in  two  pomegranates  and  a  do/en 
prickly-pears.  All  this,  joined  to  the  rabbit,  fortu- 
nately put  to  death  while  Jadin  was  taking  Salvatore's 
likeness,  presented,  more  or  less,  the  appearance  of  a 
dinner.  The  thing  was  now  how  to  cook  it.  Find- 
ing no  saucepan,  and  being  driven  to  use  the  rancid 
oil  in  place  of  butter,  we  determined  that  our  menu 
should  consist  of  chicken  soup,  roast  game,  and  three 
boiled  eggs  for  entree,  and,  for  dessert,  pomegranates 
flanked  by  prickly-pears  ;  the  chestnuts  roasted  in  the 
ashes  took  the  place  of  bread. 

All  this  discomfort  would  have  been  nothing,  ah- 

O  7 

solutely  nothing  at  all,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
odious  filth  of  the  hovel  in  which  we  were.  Hardly 
had  we  set  to  work  before  two  children  in  rags,  gaunt, 
pallid,  and  fevered,  issued  like  gnomes  from  heaven 
knows  where,  and  came  and  crouched  on  each  side 
of  the  fireplace,  following  the  transformation  of  our 
few  provisions  with  hungry  eyes.  We  tried  at  first 
to  drive  them  away,  merely  to  relieve  ourselves  of 
this  disgusting  sight,  but  the  harangue  I  made  them 
and  the  kick  with  which,  to  my  invat  regret,  Cama 

.       O  O 

accompanied  my  words,  produced  nothing  but  low 
growls  like  those  of  a  young  wild  boar  when  vou  try 
to  force  him  out  of  his  den.  I  then  turned  to  Salva- 
tore, asking  what  was  the  matter  with  them  and  what 


336  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

they  wanted,  and  Salvatore  answered  me,  casting  a 
glance  of  unspeakable  pity  upon  them  :  "  What  do 
they  want  ?  —  they  arc  hungry  and  want  something 
to  cat."" 

Alas  !  that  is  the  cry  of  the  people  of  Sicily  ;  I 
heard  nothing  else  during  the  three  months  I  lived 
there.  There  are  hapless  beings  on  that  island  whose 
hunger  will  never  have  been  appeased  from  the  day 
when  they  began  to  suck  the  half-dried  breast  of  their 
mother  to  the  day  when,  lying  on  their  bed  of  death, 
they  expire  trying  to  swallow  the  sacred  wafer  which 
the  priest  lays  upon  their  lips. 

From  that  moment  those  poor  children  had  rights 
to  the  greater  part  of  our  dinner ;  our  hunger  may 
have  remained,  but  theirs  at  least  was  satisfied.  How 
horrible  it  is  to  think  that  there  are  miserable  beings 
to  whom  one  good  meal  is  the  memory  of  a  lifetime  ! 

Dinner  over,  we  began  to  think  of  our  lodging. 
Salvatore  discovered  for  us  a  species  of  chamber 
on  the  ground-floor,  on  the  earth  of  which  were  two 
troughs  in  which  were  straw  mattresses  without  any 
sheets ;  these  were  our  beds.  Such  as  they  were, 
joined  to  the  vermin  that  already  covered  the 
legs  of  our  trousers  and  crawled  with  impunity 
along  the  walls,  they  did  not  promise  much  sleep  ; 
therefore  we  determined  to  postpone  attempting 
it  as  late  as  possible,  and  went  out,  guns  on  our 
shoulders,  for  a  tramp  about  the  country. 

Nothing  was  ever  sweeter,  calmer,  more  tranquil 
than  this  solitude;  'twas  the  silence  and  the  poesy 
of  the  desert.  The  burning  air  of  the  day  had  given 
place  to  a  little  breeze  that  brought  with  it  a  briny 


THE   SPERONARA  337 

savour  full  of  voluptuous  freshness;  the  sky  was  a 
vast  dais  of  sapphire  starred  with  gold;  huge 
meteors  were  noiselessly  crossing  space,  sometimes 
like  an  arrow  flying  to  its  aim,  at  other  times  like 
globes  of  fire  descending  from  the  heavens  upon  the 
earth.  Now  and  again  a  belated  grasshopper  began 
a  chirp,  suddenly  arrested  and  then  renewed;  the 
fire-flies,  live  stars,  sparkled,  like  those  ephemeral 
flashes  that  children  like  to  stir  among  the  half- 
extinguished  embers  on  a  hearth. 

It  would  have  been  sweet  indeed  to  spend  the 
night  in  this  way,  but  on  the  morrow  we  had 
forty  miles  to  do,  and  to-day  we  had  done  twenty- 
five,  so  that  here,  as  everywhere,  as  always,  when  the 
soul  said  yes,  the  body  said  no.  We  returned  at 
ten  o'clock,  and  threw  ourselves,  dressed  as  we  were, 
upon  our  beds.  At  first  fatigue  carried  all  before  it 
and  I  fell  asleep  ;  but  in  an  hour's  time  I  woke  up 
pricked  by  ten  thousand  pins  ;  after  that  I  might  as 
well  have  tried  to  sleep  in  a  bee-hive.  I  moved,  I 
changed  my  position,  I  turned  and  re-turned  — 
impossible  to  go  to  sleep  again. 

As  for  Jadin,  whether  his  fatigue  was  greater  or 
his  skin  less  sensitive  than  mine,  he  slept  like 
Epimenides. 

I  then  remembered  the  shed  full  of  straw  where  I 
discovered  the  eggs,  and  it  seemed  to  me  a  region  of 
bliss  compared  with  the  hell  in  which  I  was.  Conse- 
quently, as  nothing  prevented  me  from  doing  what  I 
pleased,  I  took  my  gun  which  lav  beside  my  mattress, 
opened  the  window  gently,  jumped  down,  and  went 
to  stretch  myself  out  on  that  much  desired  straw. 


338          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

I  had  been  there  perhaps  half  an  hour  and  was 
beginning  to  enter  the  state  between  waking  and 
sleeping  when  I  fancied  I  heard  talking  not  far  off. 
For  a  few  moments  I  doubted,  and  was  trying  to  fall 
more  deeply  asleep,  when  the  sound  became  so  dis- 
tinct that  I  opened  my  eyes  completely  and  saw  by 
the  starlight  three  men  standing  together  at  the  cor- 
ner of  the  house.  My  first  thought  was  to  make  sure 
that  my  gun  was  beside  me.  I  felt  it  at  the  spot 
where  I  had  laid  it,  and  then,  more  tranquil,  I 
fixed  my  eyes  upon  the  three  individuals. 

As  I  was  hidden  by  the  shadow  thrown  by  the 
roof  of  the  shed  they  could  not  see  me;  while  I, 
on  the  contrary,  could,  as  my  eyes  grew  accustomed 
to  the  darkness,  distinguish  them  perfectly.  They 
were  wrapped  in  long  cloaks ;  one  of  them  had  a 
gun  ;  the  others  were  armed  only  with  sticks. 

After  some  minutes,  during  which  time  they 
remained  motionless,  speaking  in  low  voices,  the 
one  who  had  the  gun  went  to  the  window  through 
which  I  had  lately  come  out,  opened  the  shutter,  and 
put  his  head  through  cautiously,  but  far  enough  to 
look  into  the  room.  As  we  had  left  a  lighted  lamp 
on  the  chimney-piece  he  could  see  that  one  of  our 
mattresses  was  occupied,  the  other  empty.  No  doubt 
this  circumstance  disturbed  him,  for  he  returned  at 
once  to  his  companions  and  spoke  to  them  excitedly. 
All  three  then  approached  the  window.  I  thought 
the  moment  had  come ;  I  rose  on  one  knee  and 
cocked  both  triggers  of  my  gun.  As  the  inten- 
tions of  three  rascals  who  enter  a  window  at  mid- 
night cannot  be  doubtful,  my  resolution  was  taken; 


THE  SPERONARA  339 

at  the  first  act  of  breaking-in  which  they  attempted 
I  should  fire  two  shots,  and  if  the  third  man  did  not 
run  away,  Jadin,  awakened  by  the  noise,  had  his 
carbine. 

At  this  moment  the  window  of  the  barn  opened 
and  I  saw  Salvatore's  head  appear. 

At  this  apparition  I  own  that  I  thought  our  guide 
had  returned  to  his  former  calling,  and  that  we  had 
four  bandits  on  our  hands  instead  of  three.  But 
before  this  doubt  had  time  to  change  into  certainty, 
I  heard  a  voice  asking  imperiously  in  Sicilian  : 

"  Who  are  you  ?  what  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  Salvatore  ?  "  said  all  three  men  together. 

"  Yes,  Salvatore.     Wait ;  I1m  coming  out." 

Ten  seconds  later  the  door  opened  and  Salvatore 
appeared.  He  walked  straight  to  the  three  men 
and  began  a  conversation  which,  low  as  their 
voices  were,  seemed  to  me  none  the  less  vehement. 
For  ten  minutes  they  seemed  to  be  disputing,  the 
three  men  insisting  upon  something,  he  replying 
firmly.  Presently  the  men  retired  to  a  little  dis- 
tance as  if  to  take  counsel  with  one  another;  Salva- 
tore remained  where  he  was,  his  arms  crossed,  his 
eyes  fixed  steadily  on  the  others.  Finally  the  man 
with  the  gun  left  the  group,  returned  to  Salvatore, 
shook  him  by  the  hand,  and,  rejoining  his  comrades, 
went  away  with  them.  In  less  than  five  minutes 
they  disappeared  in  the  darkness,  and  I  heard 
nothing  further  than  the  sound  of  their  steps  on 
the  shrivelled  herbage. 

Salvatore  stood  still  for  nearlv  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  at  the  same  place,  in  the  same  attitude  ;  then, 


340          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

as  if  certain  that  the  nocturnal  visitors  had  really 
departed,  he  returned  to  the  barn  and  shut  the  door 
behind  him. 

The  reader  will  understand  that  the  scene  I  had 
just  witnessed  had  taken  away  from  me,  at  least  for 
the  moment,  all  desire  to  sleep.  I  remained  for 
half  an  hour  motionless  as  a  statue  in  the  attitude  I 
had  taken,  with  a  finger  on  the  trigger  of  my  gun  ; 
then,  at  the  end  of  the  half-hour,  as  nothing  hap- 
pened and  I  heard  no  sounds,  I  resumed  a  less  uncom- 
fortable posture.  Another  half-hour  had  not  gone 
by  before,  such  is  the  extraordinary  power  of  sleep, 
I  was  already  in  the  arms  of  it. 

The  chill  of  the  morning  woke  me.  However 
beautiful  the  weather  in  Sicily  may  be,  there  always 
falls,  just  before  the  sun  rises,  a  fine  dew,  icy  and 
piercing.  Happily  the  roof  under  which  I  was  pro- 
tected me  somewhat,  but  I  felt  none  the  less  the 
matutinal  discomfort  so  well  known  to  all  travellers. 

I  was  about  to  re-enter  the  room  by  the  way  I  had 
left  it  when  Jadin  opened  the  window  ;  he  had  just 
waked  up  and  not  seeing  me  on  my  mattress  felt 
some  uneasiness  and  was  coming  in  search  of  me. 
I  told  him  what  had  happened  ;  he  had  heard  noth- 
ing. This  did  honour  to  his  powers  of  sleep,  for 
not  only  had  he  been  victimized  by  the  vermin,  but, 
I  being  absent,  he  had  evidently  paid  for  both.  At 
least,  so  it  seemed  on  a  simple  inspection  of  his 
person.  He  was  tattooed  from  head  to  foot  like  a 
New  Zealand  savage. 

We  called  Salvatore,  who  answered  from  the  stable 
where  he  was  saddling  his  mules  ;  then,  inasmuch  as 


THE  SPERONARA  341 

there  was,  of  course,  no  question  of  breakfast,  and 
no  town  on  our  route  till  we  came  to  Corleone  where 
we  expected  to  get  some  sort  of  a  meal,  we  laid  in 
a  stock  of  chestnuts  to  amuse  our  appetites  on  the 
way.  As  for  the  bill,  to  our  great  astonishment  it 
amounted,  I  know  not  how,  to  three  piastres.  I  gave 
them,  but  I  requested  Salvatore  to  hand  them  over 
as  alms  not  as  payment. 

We  resumed  our  way  in  the  same  order  as  before, 
except  that  I  walked  for  some  distance,  and  for  two 
reasons  :  first,  to  warm  myself  up  ;  secondly,  to  have 
a  little  talk  with  Salvatore  as  to  what  had  happened 
during  the  night.  At  the  first  word  I  said,  he 
began  to  laugh  ;  then,  perceiving  that  I  had  taken 
part  in  the  little  drama  from  the  rising  of  the  cur- 
tain to  its  descent,  he  said  : 

"  Yes,  yes !  they  are  old  comrades  who  work  by 
night  instead  of  by  day.  If  you  had  taken  any 
other  guide  than  me,  it  is  probable  there  would  have 
been  trouble,  and,  after  what  you  have  just  told  me, 
matters  would  have  gone  hard  with  them  ;  but  you 
saw  that,  although  I  had  to  pull  their  ears  a  bit, 
they  left  the  battle-field  to  us.  Now  we  shall  have 
no  further  trouble  until  we  cross  the  Mezzoj uso." 

"  What  of  the  Mezzojuso  ?  " 

"  That  remains  to  be  seen." 

"  Can't  you  have  the  same  influence  over  those  we 
meet  there  that  you  had  over  those  of  last  night  ?  " 

"Dame!"  responded  Salvatore,  with  that  Sicilian 
gesture  that  no  words  can  render,  "  that  "s  a  new 
troop  lately  formed. v 

"  And  you  don't  know  them  ?  " 


342          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  No,  but  they  know  me."" 

We  readied  the  bank  of  a  torrent  which,  after 
turning  the  wheel  of  a  mill  called  the  Oliva,  flowed 
in  a  rather  gentle  course  so  that  we  were  able  to 
ford  it.  Salvatore  asked  permission  to  mount  be- 
hind me,  which  I  granted,  and  together  we  made 
the  crossing  satisfactorily,  though,  in  spite  of  all  pre- 
cautions we  were  wet  to  the  knees.  Jadin  came 
next  and  reached  the  bank  safely ;  not  so  poor  Cama, 
who  was  evidently  destined  to  serve  as  our  scape- 
goat. Hardly  had  his  mule  reached  the  middle  of 
the  stream  when,  badly  guided  by  its  rider,  it  deflected 
a  few  steps  and  sank  into  a  hole.  Cama  uttered  a 
shriek ;  we  turned  round  and  beheld  him  up  to  his 
waist  in  the  water,  while  as  for  his  mule  nothing 
was  visible  but  her  head.  The  face  of  the  luckless 
one  was  so  grotesque,  for  in  all  the  fatal  events  that 
happened  to  him  he  was  intensely  comical,  that  we 
could  not  help  shouting  with  laughter. 

This  untimely  hilarity  reacted  upon  Cama,  who 
tried  to  make  his  mule  return  to  the  way  from  which 
he  had  pulled  her,  but  in  spite  of  the  efforts  the 
animal  herself  made,  she  stepped  on  a  stone  and 
stumbled  ;  the  violence  of  the  shock  broke  the  girths, 
and  instantly  we  saw  Cama  and  our  baggage  float- 
ing away  on  the  surface  of  the  stream.  Useful  as 
the  first  and  necessary  as  the  second  were  to  us,  we 
ran  ourselves  to  rescue  the  cook,  while  Salvatore  ran 
after  the  baggage.  In  ten  minutes  man  and  property 
were  both  out  of  the  water,  but  so  wet,  so  stream- 
ing, that  there  was  no  possibility  of  continuing  our 
way  without  stopping  to  dry  off.  So  we  lighted  a 


THE  SPERONARA  343 

great  fire  with  the  dried  herbage  and  dead  olive- 
brunches.  We  ourselves  really  needed  it,  for  the 
morning  air  had  chilled  us,  and  we  took  an  unspeak- 
able pleasure  in  the  free  gigantic  blaze  such  as 
woodsmen  light  in  the  forests  and  shepherds  on  the 
mountains ;  besides  which,  we  roasted  a  dozen  or 
more  chestnuts.  That  was  our  breakfast. 

While  we  were  making  this  forced  halt  we  saw  a 
litter,  carried  on  two  mules,  make  its  appearance, 
led  by  a  conductor  and  escorted  by  four  camplcn. 
Within  was  a  worthy  prelate,  fat  and  rosy,  who, 
more  prudent  than  ourselves,  it  seemed  to  me,  had 
all  the  air,  judging  by  the  look  of  contempt  that  he 
cast  on  our  collation,  to  be  carrying  his  provisions 
with  him.  The  four  cam  pier  i,  being  wrapped  in 
cloaks  and  armed  with  guns,  gave  a  picturesque 
aspect  to  the  procession.  In  spite  of  the  difficulties 
that  we  had  encountered,  he  crossed  the  little  river 
without  accident,  thanks  to  the  skill  of  his  conductor. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  we  broke  camp,  but  no 
persuasion  could  induce  Canm  to  remount  his  mule. 
Salvatore  profited  by  this  refusal  to  instal  himself  in 
the  cook's  place,  and  again  we  started,  Canm  follow- 
ing behind  on  foot. 

The  plain  we  crossed,  if  indeed  such  rough  and 
tumbled  surface  could  call  itself  a  plain,  presented  a 
most  grandiose  aspect.  Each  time  that  we  reached 
the  summit  of  a  little  hillock  we  saw,  before  and 
behind  us,  vast  and  fantastic  distances,  such  as  one 
sees  in  dreams,  so  whimsically  coloured  bv  the  sun 
that  they  seemed  to  lead  to  one  of  those  fairy  lands 
to  which  the  feet  of  man  cannot  attain.  Here  and 


344          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

there  we  could  see  upon  the  plain,  along  which  it 
undulated  like  a  snake  of  verdure,  some  rivulet  dried 
up  by  the  dog-days,  its  sinuosities  defined  by  a  line 
of  oleanders,  still  thriving  on  the  remains  of  the 
moisture ;  also,  here  and  there,  an  isle  of  verdure, 
such  as  I  have  already  described,  rising  in  the  desert 
of  discoloured  herbage,  where  millions  of  discon- 
tented grasshoppers  were  shrilling. 

After  a  six  or  eight  hours'  march,  under  a  sun  so 
hot  that  the  leather  of  our  boots  burned  our  feet,  we 
saw  the  town  where  we  expected  to  dine.  It  was 
only  two  or  three  rows  of  houses,  one  storv  high, 
built  at  equal  distances  one  from  another,  looking 
at  a  little  distance  like  children's  toys. 

On  dismounting  at  the  door  of  the  principal  inn, 
we  noticed  with  pleasure  that  the  establishment  pos- 
sessed certain  cooking  implements  that  did  not  seem 
wholly  worthless.  But  Salvatore  damped  the  joy 
this  sight  had  given  us  by  inviting  us  to  make  as 
much  haste  as  possible,  for  the  hour  lost  in  drying 
ourselves  in  the  morning  had  to  be  taken  out  of  our 
dinner  time,  in  order  not  to  arrive  too  late  at  the 
rocks  of  the  Me/zojuso.  Hungry  as  we  were,  we 
understood  the  importance  of  this  advice,  and  we 
urged  the  landlord  to  be  as  quick  as  possible.  Nev- 
ertheless, we  were  forced  to  lose  two  hours  in 
getting  an  execrable  dinner. 

We  started  again  towards  five  oVlock.  As  the 
defile  we  were  obliged  to  pass  through  was  not  more 
than  six  miles  from  Corleone  (where  we  dined),  we 
began  to  perceive  it  about  a  quarter  past  six.  It 
was  simply  a  passage  between  two  mountains,  one 


THE  SPERONARA  345 

perpendicular,  the  other  with  a  very  steep  slope, 
covered  with  rocks  that  had  rolled  from  the  summit 
and  Ix-cn  stopped  in  their  downward  course  at  vari- 
ous points.  We  expected  to  get  there  by  seven 
o'clock  ;  that  is  to  say,  in  broad  daylight.  Salva- 
tore  showed  us  the  pass  with  the  pointed  end  of  his 
stick  ;  then,  looking  at  us  as  if  to  see  what  effect  his 
words  would  produce,  he  said : 

"  If  there  is  anything  to  fear,  it  will  be  there."" 

"  Let  us  hasten,  then,"  I  answered  ;  "  for  if  there  is 
really  any  danger,  letter  meet  it  in  broad  daylight, 
rather  than  wait  till  it  overtakes  us  at  night." 

"  On,  then  !  "  said  Salvatore ;  and  resting  his  hand 
on  the  pommel  of  my  saddle,  he  spurred  the  mules 
by  his  voice,  and  they  started  forward  at  a  trot. 

We  approached  the  defile  quite  rapidly.  Cama, 
not  to  delay  us,  had  resumed  his  perch  upon  the 
baggage  and  followed  us,  clinging  to  the  ropes  that 
fastened  the  pack.  lie  had  heard  a  few  words  of 
Salvatore's  fears  and  was  very  uneasy.  I  proposed  to 
him,  as  Jadin  had  a  carbine  and  I  a  double-barrelled 
gun,  to  take  my  pistols  in  order  to  give  us  a  helping 
hand  if  need  were ;  but  this  offer  made  him  almost 
tumble  from  his  perch  with  fright.  So  Jadin  kept 
the  pistols  in  his  holsters. 

At  a  distance  of  three  hundred  steps  or  there- 
abouts from  the  pass,  Salvatore  halted  my  mule. 
As  it  was  she  who  led  the  procession,  the  two  others 
halted  likewise  ;  then,  telling  us  to  remain  where  we 
were,  because  he  had  just  detected  the  nuix/lc  of  a 
gun  behind  a  rock,  Salvatore  left  us  and  walked 
straight  to  the  point  he  had  indicated. 


346          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

\Ve  profited  by  this  little  halt  to  see  that  our 
weapons  were  all  in  good  condition.  I  had  two  balls 
in  each  barrel  of  my  gun ;  Jadin  had  the  same  in 
the  one  ban-el  of  his  carbine,  also  in  those  of  his 
pistols.  As  the  pistols  were  double-barrelled,  that 
gave  us  seven  shots  to  fire,  without  counting  that  my 
gun  was  of  a  pattern  that  enabled  me  to  reload  it, 
in  case  of  need,  so  rapidly  that  a  second  discharge 
would  follow  the  first  almost  immediately. 

We  followed  Salvatore  with  our  eyes  and  an  atten- 
tion that  can  easily  be  understood.  He  walked  with 
a  firm  and  rapid  step  that  showed  not  the  slightest 
hesitation  ;  presently  we  saw  the  form  of  another 
man  loom  up  in  an  angle  of  the  rocks  ;  Salvatore 
went  up  to  him,  and  both,  after  exchanging  some 
words,  disappeared  behind  the  rock  itself. 

At  the  end  of  ten  minutes  Salvatore  reappeared 
alone  and  came  towards  us.  In  vain  we  tried  to 
read  on  his  face  from  afar  the  news  he  brought  us ; 
it  was  quite  impossible.  At  last,  when  he  was  only 
a  few  steps  off,  I  said  : 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  " 

"  Just  what  I  expected ;  they  will  not  let  us 
pass." 

"  How  do  von  mean,  they  will  not  let  us  pass?" 

*'  That  is  to  sav,  unless  you  pay  your  way." 

"  Are  they  very  exacting?" 

"Oh,  no!  In  consideration  of  me  they  demand 
only  five  piastres." 

"  Ila  !  "  said  Jadin,  laughing,  "  that 's  good  !  what 
reasonable  rascals  !  I  prefer  having  to  do  with  them 
rather  than  with  the  innkeepers." 


THE  SPERONARA  347 

"  How  many  arc  there  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  There  are  two." 

"What!  two  in  all?" 

"  Yes,  the  others  are  on  the  road  between  Ar- 
mian/a  and  Polizzi." 

"  What  do  you  say,  Jadin  ?" 

"  Well,  I  say  that  as  there  are  hut  two,  and  we 
are  four,  it  is  our  place  to  make  them  pay  us  five 
piastres." 

"My  dear  Salvatore,"  I  said,  "have  the  kindness 
to  go  back  to  those  gentlemen  and  tell  them  we 
advise  them  to  keep  quiet." 

"  Or  else,"  added  Jadin,  "  I  will  make  Milord  eat 
them  —  won't  you,  Milord  ?  Want  to  eat  a  robber, 
don't  you,  old  fellow  ?  Hey  ?  " 

Milord  gave  two  or  three  joyous  bounds,  in  token 
of  consent. 

"  Is  that  your  last  word  ?  "  asked  Salvatore. 

"The  last." 

"  Well,  you  arc  right.  Only  dismount,  and  walk 
on  the  other  side  of  the  mules ;  so  that  if  in  a  fit  of 
ill-temper  they  should  take  a  fancy  to  fire  at  us,  you 
will  give  them  as  little  chance  to  aim  as  possible." 

The  advice  was  good  ;  we  followed  it  immediately. 
As  for  Salvatore,  whether  he  thought  he  had  noth- 
ing to  fear  or  that  he  despised  the  danger,  he  walked 
on,  whistling,  four  steps  in  advance  of  the  first 
mule;  while  we  were  behind  ours  and  completely 
sheltered  by  their  bodies. 

Presently  we  saw  the  pointed  hats  of  our  bandits 
loom  up  above  a  breast  of  rock  ;  we  saw  the  miix/lcs 
of  their  guns  aiming  in  our  direction  ;  but  although 


348          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

the  track  passed  less  than  sixty  paces  from  the  spot 
where  they  lay  in  ambush,  their  hostility  was  con- 
fined to  this  demonstration,  which  was,  perhaps, 
more  defensive  than  offensive.  At  the  end  of  an- 
other ten  minutes  we  were  out  of  range. 

"  Well,  Cama,"  I  said,  turning  towards  our  unfor- 
tunate cook,  who,  pale  as  death,  was  muttering  prayers 
and  kissing  an  image  of  the  Madonna  that  he  wore 
round  his  neck,  "  what  do  you  think  now  of  journeys 
by  land?" 

"  Oh  !  monsieur,"  he  cried,  "  I  prefer  the  sea  ;  on 
my  word  of  honour  I  do.". 

"  Well,"  I  said  to  Salvatore,  "  you  are  a  brave 
man  ;  here  are  five  piastres  with  which  to  drink  our 
health." 

Salvatore  kissed  my  hand  and  we  remounted  the 
mules. 

An  hour  later  we  arrived  without  further  accident 
at  the  inn  of  San  Loren/o,  where  we  obtained  supper 
and  beds  that  were  detestable,  for  which  they  asked 
us  on  the  following  day  four  piastres.  Decidedly 
Jadin  was  right.  The  real  robbers  in  Sicilv,  those 
from  whom  there  are  no  means  of  escaping,  are  the 
innkeepers. 


XII 

PALERMO   FELICE.     SEGESTA 

MORE  favoured  by  heaven  than  Girgenti,  Pa- 
lermo still  deserves  the  name  given  to  her 
twenty  centuries  ago ;  she  is  to-day  as  she  was  then, 
Palermo  the  Happy. 

In  fact,  if  there  is  a  city  in  the  world  that 
unites  all  conditions  for  happiness,  it  is  this  careless 
daughter  of  the  Phoenicians  called  Palermo  Felice, 
whom  the  ancients  represented  seated  like  Venus  in 
a  golden  shell.  Built  between  Monte  Pellegrino, 
which  shekel's  her  from  the  tramontuna^  and  the 
chain  of  the  Bagherias  which  protects  her  from  the 
sirocco;  lying  on  the  shores  of  a  gulf  that  has  no 
rival  but  that  of  Naples  ;  clasped  by  a  verdurous 
girdle  of  orange  and  lemon  trees,  pomegranates, 
myrtles,  aloes,  and  oleanders,  which  cool  her  with 
their  shade  and  make  her  fragrant  with  their  per- 
fume ;  heiress  of  Saracens  who  left  her  their  palaces, 
of  the  Normans  who  left  her  their  churches,  of  the 
Spaniards  who  left  her  their  serenades,  —  she  is  at  one 
and  the  same  time  poetic  as  a  sultana,  graceful  as 
a  daughter  of  France,  and  amorous  as  an  Andalusian. 
So  her  own  peculiar  happiness  is  one  of  those  that 
come  from  God,  which  men  cannot  destrov.  The 
Romans  occupied  her,  the  Saracens  conquered  her, 
the  Normans  possessed  her,  the  Spaniards  have 


350          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

scarcely  quitted  her,  and  to  all -these  different  mas- 
ters, whom  she  made  her  lovers,  she  smiled  the  same 
smile,  soft  wanton,  she  who  has  had  no  vigour 
except  for  endless  pleasure. 

Love  is  the  principal  business  of  Palermo ;  else- 
where people  live,  work,  think,  meditate,  discuss, 
combat ;  in  Palermo  they  love.  The  city  felt  the 
need  of  celestial  protection.  Men  do  not  think 
always  of  God ;  but  they  sorely  need  some  hidden 
power  that  shall  think  for  them.  Do  not  imag- 
ine that  the  Palermitans  chose  for  this  power  a 
morose,  exacting,  scolding  saint,  stern,  wrinkled, 
and  disagreeable.  Not  at  all ;  they  took  a  beautiful 
virgin,  young,  indulgent,  a  flower  of  earth,  a  star  of 
the  sky,  and  made  her  their  patron  saint.  Why  so  ? 
Because  a  woman,  chaste  and  saintly  though  she  be, 
has  always  a  little  of  the  Magdalen  in  her;  because 
a  woman,  though  she  die  a  virgin,  comprehends  love  ; 
because  it  was  of  a  woman  that  God  said  :  "  Much 
shall  be  forgiven  because  she  loved  much." 

So  that  when,  after  a  rough,  fatiguing,  endless 
journey  through  solitudes  burned  by  the  sun,  laid 
waste  by  floods,  convulsed  by  earthquakes,  without 
trees  to  shade  by  day,  without  lodging  to  sleep  in  at 
night,  we  beheld,  on  reaching  the  summit  of  a  moun- 
tain, Palermo  seated  on  the  shores  of  her  bay,  ga/ing 
at  herself  in  that  a/ure  sea,  like  Cleopatra  in  the 
streams  of  Cyrenaica,  it  will  be  believed  that  we 
uttered  a  cry  of  joy  :  at  the  mere  sight  of  Palermo 
one  forgets  all.  Palermo  is  a  goal ;  it  is  spring  after 
winter,  it  is  rest  after  fatigue,  it  is  day  after  night, 
shade  after  glare,  the  oasis  after  the  desert. 


THE   SPERONARA  351 

At  that  first  sight  of  Palermo  all  our  weariness 
disappeared ;  we  forgot  the  hard  trot  of  the  mules, 
we  forgot  the  inns  where  hunger  and  thirst  were  the 
least  of  our  troubles  ;  we  forgot  those  so-called  roads 
where  every  angle,  every  rock,  every  quarry,  hid  a 
bandit  watching  for  us,  —  we  forgot  it  all  in  looking 
at  Palermo,  in  breathing  —  in  that  sea-breeze  that 
seemed  rising  to  meet  us. 

We  went  down  to  the  city  along  a  road  bordered 
on  one  side  by  enormous  reeds  and  bathed  on  the 
other  by  the  sea ;  the  harbour  was  full  of  ships  at 
anchor,  the  bay  full  of  tiny  sail-boats.  About  a 
league  before  reaching  Palermo,  villas  covered  with 
vines  showed  themselves,  palaces  shaded  by  palm- 
trees  stood  forth  to  meet  us ;  and  all  had  an  atmos- 
phere of  joy  delightful  to  see  and  feel  —  we  had 
fallen  into  the  middle  of  the  fetes  in  honour  of 
Santa  Rosalia,  the  patron  saint  of  the  city. 

As  we  approached  the  town  we  hastened  our  steps. 
Palermo  attracted  us  like  that  mountain  in  the 
"Arabian  Nights"  that  vessels  could  not  flee.  After 
showing  us  from  afar  her  domes,  her  towers  and 
cupolas,  which  disappeared  one  by  one  as  we  ad- 
vanced, she  now  opened  to  us  her  suburbs.  We 
walked  along  a  species  of  promenade  overlooking  the 
sea  until  we  came  to  a  gateway  of  Norman  construc- 
tion ;  the  sentinel,  instead  of  stopping  us,  saluted  us, 
as  if  to  say  to  us  that  we  were  very  welcome. 

In  the  middle  of  the  square  called  the  Marina  a 
man  came  to  us. 

"These  gentlemen  are  French  ?""  he  asked. 

"  Born  in  the  heart  of  France,'"  replied  Jadin. 


352          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

"  It  is  I  who  have  the  honour  to  be  useful  to  the 
young  gentlemen  of  your  nation  who  visit  Palermo." 

"  In  what  way  do  you  serve  them  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  In  all  ways,  Excellency."" 

"  The  deuce  !  you  must  be  a  valuable  man.  What 
is  your  name  ?  " 

"  I  have  many  names,  Excellency  ;  but  as  a  general 
thing  I  am  called  il  Signore  Mercurio" 

"  Ah  !  I  understand.     Thank  you." 

"  Here  are  the  recommendations  of  the  last  French 
gentlemen  who  employed  me ;  you  can  sec  that  they 
were  perfectly  satisfied  with  my  services." 

So  saying  the  Signore  Mercurio  showed  me  three 
or  four  very  circumstantial  and  very  indiscreet  certifi- 
cates which  he  had  obtained  from  the  gratitude  of 
our  compatriots;  I  glanced  them  over  and  passed 
them  to  Jadin,  who  read  them. 

"  You  gentlemen  see  that  I  am  quite  in  due 
form." 

"  Yes,  mv  good  friend,  but  unfortunately  I  have 
no  need  of  you." 

"  But  you  have,  Excellency ;  gentlemen  are  always 
in  need  of  me  ;  if  not  for  one  thing,  then  for  another : 
if  you  are  rich,  I  will  show  you  how  to  spend  your 
money ;  if  poor,  I  will  help  you  to  economize ;  are 
you  artists,  1 11  show  you  pictures ;  are  you  men  of 
society,  I'll  put  you  up  to  all  the  arrangements  of 
social  life  in  Palermo.  I  am  all  things,  Excellency  ; 
guide,  valet,  antiquary,  merchant,  buyer,  historian 
—  and  above  all  ...  r 

"  Ruffiano"  said  Jadin. 

"  <Vi,  signorc?  replied  our  strange  interlocutor,  with 


THE   SPERONARA  353 

an  expression  of  proud  confidence  of  which  the  reader 
can  form  no  idea. 

"  You  seem  satisfied  with  your  calling  ?" 

"Satisfied,  your  Excellency  !  I  am  the  happiest 
man  on  earth." 

"  The  deuce  ! "  exclaimed  Jadin  in  French  ;  "  that 's 
pleasant  for  decent  men  !  " 

"  What  does  your  friend  say,  Excellency  ?  " 

"  He  says  that  virtue  is  its  own  reward.  I  beg 
your  pardon,  my  friend,  but  it  is  rather  hot  to 
be  talking  here  in  the  sun;  besides,  we  have  just 
arrived,  as  you  see,  and  are  very  tired." 

"  These  gentlemen  are  going  to  the  Hotel  des 
Quatre-Cantons  ?  " 

"  I  believe  so." 

"  I  shall  go  there  to  pay  my  respects  to  these 
gentlemen." 

"  Thank  you,  that  is  useless." 

"  Otherwise  I  should  be  failing  in  my  duty ;  be- 
sides, I  love  Frenchmen,  Excellency." 

"  The  deuce !  that 's  very  flattering  for  our  nation." 

"  I  shall  go  to  the  hotel." 

"  Do  as  you  choose,  Signore  Mercurio  ;  but  you 
will  probably  waste  your  time,  I  warn  you." 

"  That  is  my  affair." 

"  Adieu,  Signore  Mercurio." 

"  Au  revoir,  Excellency." 

"  What  a  scoundrel !"  said  Jadin. 

We  continued  our  way  to  the  Hotel  des  Quatre- 
Cantons.  As  I  have  said,  Palermo  wore  a  festal 
air  which  gave  one  pleasure  to  sec.  Flags  floated 
fiom  all  the  windows,  great  bands  of  brilliant  stuff's 

23 


354          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

hung  from  the  balconies,  porticoes  and  wooden  pyra- 
mids garlanded  with  flowers  bloomed  from  end  to  end 
of  every  street.  Salvatore  took  us  round  in  a  circuit 
and  we  passed  in  front  of  the  episcopal  palace. 
There  was  a  huge  machine  of  four  or  five  storeys, 
forty-five  to  fifty  feet  high,  shaped  like  those  porce- 
lain pyramids  on  which  are  served  bonbons  at  des- 
sert ;  this  was  in  blue  taffeta  with  silver  fringes,  and 
on  it  was  the  figure  of  a  woman,  holding  a  cross  and 
surrounded  by  angels.  It  was  the  chariot  or  car  of 
Santa  Rosalia. 

We  reached  the  hotel ;  it  was  crowded  with 
foreigners.  By  Salvatore's  influence  we  obtained 
two  little  chambers  which  the  landlord  was  reserving, 
he  told  us,  for  two  Englishmen  who  were  to  arrive 
from  Messina  and  had  engaged  them  in  advance. 
Perhaps  this  was  only  a  trick  to  make  us  pay 
treble  what  they  were  worth ;  but  such  as  they 
were  and  at  the  price  they  cost,  we  were  only  too 
lucky  to  get  them. 

We  now  settled  our  account  with  Salvatore,  who 
asked  for  a  recommendation,  which  we  gave  him  with 
all  our  hearts.  I  added  as  a  gift  two  piastres  to  the 
five  I  had  already  given  him  after  safely  issuing  from 
the  pass  of  Mezzojuso,  and  we  parted  mutually  en- 
chanted with  one  another. 

We  questioned  the  landlord  as  to  the  best  use  we 
could  make  of  the  day  ;  there  was  nothing  to  be 
done,  he  said,  till  five  in  the  afternoon  but  bathe 
and  sleep.  At  five  o'clock  there  was  promenade 
on  the  Marina ;  at  eight,  fireworks  on  the  seashore ; 
throughout  the  evening  illumination  and  dances  at 


THE   SPERONARA  355 

the  Flora ;  at  midnight,  Cor.io.  We  asked  for  two 
baths,  ordered  our  beds  made  ready,  and  hired  a 
carriage. 

At  four  they  came  to  tell  us  that  the  table  d'hote 
was  served  ;  we  went  down  and  found  a  table  around 
which  were  collected  specimens  of  all  the  peoples  of 
the  earth, —  French,  Spaniards,  English,  Germans, 
Poles,  Russians,  Wallachians,  Turks,  Greeks,  Tunis- 
ians. We  approached  two  of  our  compatriots,  who, 
recognizing  us  on  their  side,  came  up  to  us.  They 
were  Parisians,  men  of  society,  and,  above  all,  of 
intelligence,  Baron  de  S —  -  and  the  Vicomte  de 

R .  They  had  already  been  a  week  in  Palermo, 

and  as  it  is  one  of  the  claims  of  us  Frenchmen  to 
know  every  city  at  the  end  of  a  week  as  well  as  if 
we  had  lived  there  all  our  lives,  this  meeting  was  for 
us  a  perfect  godsend. 

After  the  dinner,  which  we  found  remarkably  good, 
they  told  us  our  carriage  was  ready  ;  these  gentlemen 
had  theirs,  and  as  we  did  not  wish  to  separate  alto- 
gether, we  divided  ;  Jadin  drove  with  the  Vicomte 
de  R ,  and  Baron  de  S —  -  with  me. 

The  Marina  is  the  promenade  for  carnages  and 
horsemen,  as  the  Flora  is  that  of  persons  on  foot. 

There,  as  at  Florence,  as  at  Messina,  every  one 
who  has  or  can  get  an  equipage  is  obliged  to  come 
and  make  his  or  her  giro  between  six  and  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening ;  it  is  a  very  pleasant  obli- 
gation ;  nothing  can  be  more  charming  than  this 
esplanade  of  the  Marina,  lined  on  one  side  with 
palaces,  on  the  other  side  by  the  bay  communicating 
with  the  open  sea  that  stretches  away  in  front  of  the 


356          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

city,  her  girdle  of  mountains  inclosing  and  pro- 
tecting her  at  the  back.  Then,  that  is  to  say,  from 
six  in  the  evening  till  two  in  the  morning,  blows  the 
greco,  a  cool  breeze  from  the  northeast,  which  gives 
vigour  to  a  whole  population,  who  seem  destined  to 
sleep  by  day  and  live  by  night ;  for  those  are  the 
hours  when  Palermo  wakens,  breathes,  and  smiles. 
Collected  almost  to  a  man  on  this  beautiful  quay, 
without  other  light  than  that  of  the  stars,  carriages, 
riders,  and  walkers  pass  and  repass  each  other ;  talk- 
ing, chattering,  singing  like  a  bevy  of  joyous  birds  ; 
exchanging  flowers,  rendezvous,  kisses ;  and  all  in 
haste  for  love  or  pleasure ;  drinking  life  in  full 
draughts,  caring  little  for  that  half  of  Europe  which 
envies  them,  or  for  that  other  half  which  pities  them. 

Naples  tyrannizes  over  Palermo,  it  is  true;  per- 
haps because  Naples  is  jealous.  But  what  cares 
Palermo  for  Neapolitan  tyranny  ?  Naples  may  take 
her  money,  Naples  may  lay  waste  her  land,  Naples 
may  demolish  her  walls,  but  Naples  cannot  take 
away  from  her  her  Marina,  bathed  by  the  sea,  her 
greco  breeze  that  cools  the  night,  her  palm-trees  that 
shade  the  morning,  her  orange-trees  that  perfume  all 
things,  and  her  loves ;  —  her  loves  that  cradle  her 
with  dreams  when  they  do  not  waken  he*  with  their 
reality.  It  is  said,  "  See  Naples  and  die,"  but  I 
should  rather  say,  "  See  Palermo  and  live." 

At  nine  o'clock  a  rocket  went  up,  and  the  fete 
stopped  short ;  carriages,  horsemen,  and  foot-passen- 
gers stood  still,  for  this  was  the  signal  for  the  fire- 
works, -which  are  always  displayed  before  the  Palazzo 
Butera,  The  Prince  of  Butera  is  one  of  the  great 


THE  SPERONARA  357 

seigneurs  of  the  last  century  who  have  left  many 
popular  memories  in  Sicily,  where,  as  everywhere  else, 
such  seigneurs  are  becoming  few. 

The  fireworks  over,  there  was  division  among  the 
promenaders ;  some  remained  on  the  Marina,  others 
departed  towards  La  Flora.  We  were  among  the 
latter,  and  in  five  minutes'  time  we  had  reached  the 
gate  of  that  promenade,  which  is  thought  to  be  one 
of  the  finest  botanical  gardens  in  the  world.  It  was 
magnificently  illuminated,  lanterns  of  a  thousand 
shades  of  colour  hung  from  the  trees,  and  in  the 
spaces  where  the  roads  crossed  each  other  were  bands 
of  music,  with  burghers  and  people  dancing  to  them. 

We  stayed  in  the  Flora  until  ten  o'clock ;  at  ten 
the  doors  of  the  Cathedral  opened  to  allow  of  the 
exit  of  fraternities,  corporations,  shrines  of  saints, 
and  relics  of  martyrs  who  go  to  pay  visits  on  one 
another.  We  were  anxious  not  to  miss  this  spec- 
tacle, and  we  made  our  way  to  the  Cathedral,  which 
we  reached  with  great  difficulty  on  account  of  the 
crowd. 

The  Cathedral,  or  church  of  Santa  Rosalia,  is  a 
magnificent  edifice  of  the  twelfth  century,  its  archi- 
tecture half  Norman  half  Saracen,  full  of  ravishing 
details  of  miraculous  finish,  dentellcd,  scalloped, 
open-worked  like  a  marble  embroidery.  The  doors 
were  open  to  every  one;  and  the  chancel,  illuminated 
from  top  to  bottom  by  lustres  hanging  from  the 
roof,  suspended  one  above  another,  cast  a  dazzling 
light ;  I  have  never,  anywhere,  seen  anything  to 
equal  it.  We  walked  around  three  or  four  times, 
stopping  now  and  then,  to  count  the  eighty  columns 


358          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

of  oriental  granite  that  support  the  roof,  and  exam- 
ine the  splendid  sarcophagi  of  porphyry,  where  sleep 
the  great  King  Roger,  his  daughter  Constance,  and 
her  husband,  Henry  VI. ;  also  his  illustrious  grand- 
son Frederick  II.,  whose  sarcophagus,  the  finest  of 
all,  is  borne  on  four  lions.  In  1781,  these  tombs  were 
opened  to  verify  the  presence  of  the  royal  bones 
they  were  supposed  to  contain.  The  bodies  of  Henry 
and  Constance  were  greatly  decomposed,  but  that  of 
Frederick,  wrapped  in  sumptuous  robes  bearing  Ara- 
bic inscriptions,  with  the  crown,  the  imperial  apple, 
and  his  sword  beside  him,  was  intact  and  scarcely  dis- 
figured. We  consumed  an  hour  and  a  half  in  this 
investigation ;  then,  as  midnight  was  ringing,  we  got 
into  our  carnages  and  were  driven  to  the  Corso, 
which  begins  at  midnight  and  takes  place  in  the  Via 
del  Cassero. 

This  is  the  finest  street  in  Palermo,  and  it  runs 
from  end  to  end  of  the  city,  being  one  mile  and  a 
half  long  from  one  extremity  to  the  other.  When 
the  Arabian  emirs  settled  in  Palermo  they  chose 
for  their  residence  an  old  castle  at  the  eastern  end  of 
the  town,  which  they  fortified,  giving  to  it  the  name 
of  El  Cassaer,  hence  the  modern  name  Cassero ;  the 
street  is  also,  in  imitation  of  Naples,  called  the 
Toledo.  This  street  is  crossed  at  right  angles  by 
another  street,  the  Via  Macqueda,  or  Strada  Nuova, 
dividing  the  city  into  four  distinct  quarters.  At  the 
point  where  the  two  streets  intersect  they  form  a 
square,  the  four  sides  of  which  arc  occupied  by  four 
palaces,  all  alike,  their  facades  adorned  with  statues 
of  the  viceroys. 


THE   SPERONARA  359 

the  reader  imagine  this  immense  Via  Cassero, 
illuminated  from  end  to  end,  not  merely  at  the  win- 
dows, but  on  those  porticoes  and  wooden  pyramids 
I  had  already  noticed  in  the  daytime  ;  filled  from 
one  extremity  to  the  other  with  the  carriages  of  all 
the  princes,  dukes,  marquises,  counts,  and  barons, 
with  whom  the  place  abounds,  and  in  those  carriages 
the  handsomest  women  of  Palermo,  in  their  grand 
gala  dresses;  on  each  side  of  the  roadway  two  solid 
hedges  of  people,  concealing  under  their  Sunday 
clothes  the  rags  of  their  daily  life;  gav  companies 
on  all  the  balconies,  flags  at  all  the  windows,  invisible 
music  everywhere,  and  he  will  have  an  idea  of  what 
the  nocturnal  Corso  of  Santa  Rosalia  is. 

It  was  during  this  fete  that  the  revolution  of  1820 
[against  the  Neapolitan  viceroys]  broke  out.  The 
Prince  de  la  Cattolica  tried  to  repress  it,  and 
marched  the  Neapolitan  regiments  quartered  in 
Palermo  against  the  people.  Hut  the  latter  rushed 
upon  them,  and  before  the  soldiers  had  time  for  a 
second  discharge,  they  were  knocked  down,  disarmed, 
dispersed,  and  reduced  to  nothing.  The  insurgents 
then  spread  themselves  through  the  town,  shouting  : 
"Death  to  the  Prince  de  la  Cattolica!"  Ilearino1 

O 

these  cries,  the  prince  took  refuge  with  a  friend  who 
had  a  villa  at  Bagheria,  about  fifteen  miles  from 
Palermo;  but  the  people  followed  him.  The  prince, 
pursued  from  room  to  room,  crept  between  two  mat- 
tresses. The  populace  entered  the  room  in  which  he 
was,  hunted  on  all  sides,  and  left  without  finding 
him.  Then  the  prince,  hearing  no  further  noise  and 
believing  himself  alone,  came  out  of  his  hiding-place ; 


360          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

but  a  child  hidden  behind  the  door  saw  him,  called 
to  the  murderers,  and  the  prince  was  killed. 

He,  like  the  Prince  of  Butera,  was  one  of  the  great 
seigneurs  of  Palermo,  but  was  far  from  being  as  pop- 
ular and  beloved  as  the  latter.  Both  were  ruined  by 
the  prodigalities  without  number  they  each  indulged 
in  ;  but  the  Prince  of  Butera  never  knew  it,  and  prob- 
ably never  suspected  it,  for  his  tenants,  by  unanimous 
agreement,  continued  to  pay  him  an  enormous  rental, 
and  whenever,  in  spite  of  that  payment,  the  prince's 
steward  wrote  to  them,  "The  prince  lacks  money," 
the  coffers  were  filled  as  if  by  miracle,  and  in  some 
instances  these  worthy  people  sold  their  marriage 
jewels  to  do  it.  The  Prince  de  la  Cattolica,  on  the 
contrary,  was  always  quarrelling  with  his  creditors ; 
so  that  after  a  magnificent  fete  he  had  just  given  to 
the  Court,  King  Ferdinand,  seeing  that  he  did  not 
know  which  way  to  turn  for  money,  granted  him  by 
roval  ordinance  twenty-four  years  to  pay  his  debts. 
Backed  by  this  ordinance  the  prince  sent  his  creditors 
to  the  right-about. 

As  the  Prince  of  Butera  had,  in  1820,  been  dead 
some  years,  the  old  Prince  of  Paterno,  the  most 
popular  man  in  Sicily  after  him,  was  obliged  to  come 
forward  to  pacify  the  people  and  stop  the  massacres. 
He  did  more ;  when  General  Pepe  and  his  troops 
presented  themselves  in  the  name  of  the  provisional 
government  and  demanded  an  entrance  to  Palermo, 
the  old  prince  managed  so  well  that  both  sides  were 
induced  to  sign  a  treaty.  The  Palermitans,  desiring 
to  give  to  this  agreement  the  form  of  a  treaty,  that 
it  might  never  be  considered  a  capitulation,  exacted 


THE  SPERONARA  361 

that  tlie  said  treaty  should  be  drawn  up  and  signed 
outside  of  Sicily.  And  the  conditions  were  actually 
discussed,  agreed  upon,  and  signed  on  board  of  an 
American  vessel  lying  at  anchor  in  the  harbour. 
One  of  the  articles  stipulated  that  the  Neapolitans 
should  enter  without  beat  of  drum.  At  the  gate  of 
the  town  the  drum-major,  from  habit,  made  the 
ordinary  sign  and  the  march  began ;  instantly  a 
man  of  the  people  threw  himself  on  the  drum  that 
was  nearest  to  him  and  ripped  it  open  with  his 
knife.  They  attempted  to  arrest  the  man,  but  the 
whole  town  showed  plainly  that  it  was  ready  to  rise 
again.  General  Pepe  at  once  ordered  the  drum- 
sticks back  to  the  belts  ;  and  the  terms  imposed  by 
the  Palermitans  were  put,  after  this  slight  infraction, 
into  complete  execution. 

But  the  treaty  was  soon  violated,  not  only  in 
single  articles,  but  in  all  its  parts.  In  the  first  place, 
the  Neapolitan  parliament  refused  to  ratify  it ;  next, 
the  Austrians  having  returned  to  Naples,  Cardinal 
Gravina,  appointed  lieutenant-general  for  the  king  in 
Sicily,  published  a  decree  that  annulled  all  that  had 
taken  place  since  the  hereditary  prince  had  left  the 
island.  Then  extortions  began,  never  to  cease  again, 
and  very  strange  things  were  seen.  I  will  cite  two 
or  three  examples  to  give  an  idea  of  the  manner 
in  which  taxes  arc  imposed  and  collected  in 
Sicily. 

The  city  of  Messina  had  a  right  over  communal 
taxation,  and  out  of  this  revenue  it  jxiid  any  over- 
plus to  the  land-tax.  The  king  took  the  communal 
right  for  himself,  and  exacted  that  the  city  should 


362          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

continue  to  pay  over  the  surplus,  though  it  no  longer 
had  rights  over  the  property. 

The  Prince  of  Villa-Franca  had  an  estate  which  he 
made  into  a  rice  plantation  and  which,  bringing  in 
about  GOOO  onces  (72,000  francs)  had  been  taxed 
on  that  sum.  The  government  discovered  that  the 
irrigations  made  for  this  crop  were  injurious  to  the 
health  of  the  inhabitants ;  it  forbade  the  Prince  of 
Villa-Franca  to  continue  growing  rice.  The  prince 
obeyed  and  put  his  land  into  wheat  and  cotton  ; 
but  as  this  crop  was  much  less  lucrative  than  the 
other  the  revenue  fell  from  72,000  francs  to  6000. 
But  the  Prince  of  Villa-Franca  was  made  to  pay 
the  same  tax  as  before,  namely  900  ounces,  that 
is  to  say,  5000  francs  more  than  the  estate  yielded 
him. 

In  1831  clouds  of  locusts  settled  upon  Sicily  ;  the 
property-owners  wished  to  unite  with  one  another  in 
destroying  them,  but,  reunions  of  individuals  beyond 
a  certain  number  being  forbidden,  the  king  made 
known  that  on  payment  of  a  tax  which  he  was  about 
to  establish  he  would  take  upon  himself  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  locusts.  In  spite  of  appeals  the  tax  was 
levied  ;  the  king  did  not  destroy  the  locusts  ;  they 
disappeared  of  themselves  when  they  had  eaten  up 
the  harvest,  and  —  the  tax  remained  ! 

It  was  exactions  such  as  these,  of  which  I  have 
related  the  most  insignificant,  that  produced  the 
deep  hatred  which  exists  between  the  Sicilians  and 
Neapolitans,  —  hatred  surpassing  that  of  England 
and  Ireland,  of  Belgium  and  Holland,  of  Portugal 
and  Spain. 


THE  SPERONARA  3G3 

Nevertheless,  this  great  hatred  between  the  two 
people  has  been  somewhat  calmed  of  late.  I  speak 
of  the  years  1833,  1834,  1835.  The  King  of  Naples, 
on  his  accession  to  the  throne,  desirous  of  accomplish- 
ing the  hopes  and  wishes  of  the  Sicilians,  sent  his 
brother  to  Palermo  with  the  rank  of  viceroy.  The 
Count  of  Syracuse  was  not  only  a  young  man  but 
almost  a  child  ;  he  was,  I  think,  scarcely  eighteen 
years  old.  At  first  this  extreme  youth  frightened 
his  subjects ;  a  few  boyish  pranks  increased  their 
uneasiness ;  but  under  the  friction  of  public  affaire 
the  boy  became  a  man,  he  understood  the  high 
mission  he  had  to  fulfil  in  reconciling  Naples  and 
Palermo ;  he  dreamed  for  this  poor  ruined,  enslaved, 
crushed  Sicily  a  social  and  artistic  renascence.  Two 
years  after  his  arrival,  Sicily  breathed  as  if  she  were 
awaking  from  an  iron-bound  sleep.  The  young 
prince  had  now  become  the  idol  of  her  people. 

But  then  there  happened  what  happens  always  in 
like  circumstances ;  the  men  who  battened  on  the 
disorder,  ruin,  and  abasement  of  Sicily  saw  that  their 
reign  would  end  if  that  of  the  prince  continued. 
The  natural  kindness  of  the  viceroy  became  on  their 
lips  calculated  ambition,  the  gratitude  of  the  popu- 
lace a  tendency  to  revolt.  The  king  surrounded, 
circumvented,  teased,  conceived  suspicions  as  to  the 
fidelity  of  his  brother. 

Matters  were  thus  when  the  carnival  occurred. 
The  Count  of  Syracuse,  a  handsome  young  fellow, 
loving  pleasure,  joined  in  all  the  fetes,  eagerly 
seizing  every  occasion  of  them.  Neapolitan,  and 
consequently  accustomed  to  a  noisy  and  animated 


364          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

carnival,  he  organized  a  magnificent  cavalcade,  in 
which  he  took  the  part  of  Richard  Cceur  de  Lion, 
and  invited  the  Sicilian  nobles,  who  wished  to  please 
him,  to  take  the  other  characters  in  the  novel  of 
"  Ivanhoe."  They  nil  hastened  to  accept  the  invi- 
tation. The  cavalcade  was  so  splendid  that  the  fame 
of  it  reached  Naples. 

"  What  part  did  my  brother  take  ? "  asked  the 
king. 

"  Sire,"  replied  the  bearer  of  the  news,  "  his  Royal 
Highness  represented  the  personage  of  Richard  Cxeur 
de  Lion." 

"  Ah  !  yes,  yes  !  "  murmured  the  king ;  "  he 
Richard  Goeur  de  Lion,  and  I  John  Lackland  !  —  I 
understand." 

Eight  days  later  the  Count  of  Syracuse  was 
recalled. 

This  disgrace  gave  him  fresh  popularity  in  Sicily, 
where  every  one,  seeing  him  at  close  hand,  did  justice 
to  his  intentions  and  knew  he  was  guiltless  of  the 
ambition  of  which  his  brother  suspected  him.  King 
Ferdinand,  on  his  side,  knowing  that  he  had  lost  a 
part,  at  least,  of  his  popularity,  was  sulky  to  his 
insular  subjects.  For  the  first  time  since  his  acces- 
sion to  the  throne  he  allowed  the  fete  of  Santa 
Rosalia  to  take  place  without  being  present  in  the 
cathedral  at  the  solemn  mass  which  is  celebrated 
there  in  honour  of  it. 

Such  were  the  feelings  of  hatred  and  animosity 
that  I  found  throughout  Sicily  towards  the  people 
and  government  of  Naples;  although  it  must  be 
owned  that  these  political  emotions  did  not  hinder 


THE  SPERONARA  -%5 

in  any  visible  manner  the  Palermitan  proclivities  for 
pleasure. 

One  of  the  things  that  struck  me  most  on  arriving 
there  was  the  difference  between  the  Neapolitan 
character  and  the  Sicilian  character;  a  crossing  of  a 
day  separates  the  two  capitals,  a  strait  four  miles 
wide  parts  the  two  kingdoms,  and  yet  one  might 
think  them  a  thousand  leagues  from  one  another. 
At  Naples  you  find  shouts,  gesticulations,  eternal 
noise  without  due  cause ;  at  Messina  or  Palermo  you 
meet  silence,  sobriety  of  gesture,  almost  taciturnity. 
Ask  a  question  of  a  Palermitan,  a  sign,  a  word, 
rarely  a  sentence  answers  you  ;  ask  the  Neapolitan, 
and  not  only  will  he  reply  at  full  length,  prolixly, 
but  presently  he  himself  will  be  questioning  you  in 
turn  and  you  cannot  get  rid  of  him.  The  Palermitan 
shouts  and  gesticulates  also,  but  only  in  moments  of 
passion  or  anger ;  the  Neapolitan  does  so  all  the 
time.  The  normal  condition  of  one  is  noise  ;  the 
habitual  state  of  the  other  is  silence. 

The  two  distinctive  characteristics  of  the  Sicilian 
are  bravery  and  disinterestedness.  The  Prince  of 
Butera,  whom  I  cite  as  the  type  of  a  great  Palermi- 
tan noble,  gave  an  example  of  those  two  virtues  in 
one  day. 

A  riot  occurred  in  Palermo,  brought  on  by  a 
money  crisis.  The  people  were  literally  dying  of 
hunger;  they  reasoned  that  it  were  better  to  die  of 
a  ball  or  a  cannon-shot,  because  the  death  struggle 
in  that  way  was  less  long  and  less  painful. 

The  king  and  queen  on  their  side,  who  hail  not 
much  money  themselves,  could  not  buy  wheat,  and 


366          JOURNEYS   WITH    DUMAS 

would  not  reduce  the  taxes ;  they  pointed  a  cannon 
down  each  street  and  made  ready  to  answer  the 
people  with  that  ultima  ratio  re  gum.  One  of  these 
cannon  commanded  the  end  of  the  Via  Cassero,  where 
it  opens  on  the  square  of  the  Royal  Palace.  The 
populace  marched  on  the  palace  and  consequently  on 
the  cannon.  The  gunner,  with  lighted  match,  stood 
ready;  the  people  advanced,  the  gunner  put  the 
match  nearer  to  the  touch-hole  ;  at  that  moment 
Prince  Ercola  di  Butera  came  from  a  cross  street 
and,  without  saying  a  word  or  making  a  sign,  he 
seated  himself  on  the  cannon's  mouth. 

As  he  was  the  most  popular  man  in  Sicily  the 
people  welcomed  him  with  .shouts  of  joy.  He  made 
sign  that  he  wished  to  speak.  The  gunner,  dumb- 
founded, after  putting  his  match  three  times  near 
the  touch-hole  without  the  prince  deigning  to  notice 
it,  lowered  it  to  the  ground.  The  people  kept  silence 
as  if  under  a  spell ;  they  listened. 

The  prince  made  them  a  long  speech,  in  which  he 
explained  how  the  Court,  driven  from  Naples, 
stripped  by  the  English,  and  reduced  to  its  Sicilian 
revenue,  was  itself  starving ;  he  told  how  King  Fer- 
dinand went  hunting  to  get  food,  and  said  he  had 
dined  with  his  Majesty  a  few  days  earlier,  when  there 
was  nothing  to  eat  but  the  game  the  king  had  killed. 

The  people  listened,  saw  the  justice  of  his  argu- 
ments, uncocked  their  guns,  put  them  over  their 
shoulders,  and  dispersed. 

Ferdinand  and  Caroline  saw  the  whole  affair  from 
their  windows.  They  sent  for  the  Prince  of  Butera, 
who  made  them,  in  their  turn,  a  very  sensible  speech 


THE   SPERONARA  367 

on  the  disorder  of  their  treasury.  The  two  sov- 
ereigns then  with  one  voice  offered  him  the  plaee  of 
minister  of  finance. 

"  Sire,"  replied  the  Prince  of  Butera,  "  I  have 
never  administered  anything  but  my  own  fortune, 
and  that  I  have  spent.11 

So  saying,  he  made  his  bow  to  the  sovereigns  he 
had  just  saved  and  retired  to  his  palace  on  the 
Marina,  far  more  a  king  than  King  Ferdinand. 

The  Corso  lasted  two  houi-s,  and  at  two  in  the 
morning  we  returned  to  our  hotel  amid  illuminations 

c> 

half  extinguished  and  serenaders  half  asleep.  We 
found  awaiting  us  an  invitation  to  dine  on  the  mor- 
row with  the  viceroy,  the  Prince  of  Campo  Franco. 
We  had  sent  him,  on  arriving,  our  letters  of  intro- 
duction, and  with  that  perfect  politeness  to  be  found 
only  among  the  great  Italian  seigneurs  he  honoured 
them  at  once. 

The  Prince  of  Campo  Franco  has  four  sons;  the 
second  of  whom  is  the  Count  Lucchesi-Palli,  who 
married  the  Duchesse  de  Berry.  lie  was  just  then 
in  Sicily  for  the  purpose  of  burying  in  his  familv 
vault  the  bodv  of  the  little  girl  born  during  the 
captivity  at  Blaye,  who  had  just  died.  As  this 
invitation  for  dinner  was  at  the  country-seat  of  the 
viceroy,  situated,  like  nearly  all  the  villas  of  the  rich 
Palermitans,  at  La  Bagheria,  we  started  two  or  three 
hours  earlier  than  the  time  appointed,  in  order  to 
visit  on  the  way  the  famous  palace  of  the  Prince  of 
Palagonia,  a  model  of  grotcsqucness,  and  a  miracle 
of  folly.  It  was  in  the  environs  of  I  A  Bagheria  that 
Roger,  Count  of  Sicily  and  Calabria,  won  from  the 


368          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

Saracens  about  the  year  1072  the  great  battle  that 
gave  him  Palermo. 

Our  carnage  stopped  before  the  palace  of  the 
Prince  of  Palagonia,  which  we  recogni/ed  at  once  by 
the  unnumbered  monsters  which  adorned  the  walls, 
surmounted  the  gates,  and  crawled  about  the  gar- 
dens; there  were  shepherds  with  asses'"  heads,  young 
girls  with  horses'  heads,  cats  with  faces  of  Capuchin 
monks,  bicephalous  children,  men  with  four  legs, 
one-footed  human  creatures  with  four  arms,  a  men- 
agerie of  impossible  beings  to  whom  the  prince 
prayed  God,  every  time  his  wife  was  pregnant,  to  give 
reality  by  permitting  the  princess  to  give  birth  to 
some  creature  like  unto  those  he  carefully  spread 
before  her  eyes  in  order  to  bring  about  that  happy 
result.  Unfortunately  for  the  prince,  God  had  the 
good  sense  not  to  listen  to  his  prayers,  and  the  prin- 
cess brought  into  the  world  none  but  children  like 
all  other  children,  unless,  to  be  sure,  they  find  them- 
selves inheriting  some  fine  day  the  singular  madness 
of  their  father. 

Another  fancy  of  the  prince  was  to  procure  all  the 
horns  he  ever  heard  of,  —  horns  of  cattle,  horns  of 
deer,  antlers  of  stags,  goats1  horns,  rams'1  horns,  ele- 
phants'1 tusks  even  ;  all  bony  protuberances  of  curved 
and  pointed  shajxj  were  welcomed  at  the  palazzo,  and 
bought  by  the  prince  almost  without  bargaining. 
So  from  the  antechamber  to  the  boudoir,  from  the 
cellar  to  the  garret,  that  palace  bristled  with  horns; 
horns  held  up  the  draperies,  and  suspended  the  chan- 
deliers; curtains  were  looped  back  with  horns;  buf- 
fets, testers,  and  bookshelves,  were  surmounted  by 


THE   SPERONARA  3G9 

horns.  One  might  have  offered  twenty-five  louis 
for  a  horn  of  any  kind,  and  in  all  Palermo  it  could 
not  have  been  found. 

Art,  of  course,  had  nothing  to  do  with  such  de- 
bauchery of  the  imagination  ;  palace,  court,  gardens, 
are  all  in  the  vilest  taste,  and  made  one  think  it  a 
house  built  and  inhabited  by  a  colony  of  mad- 
men. Jadin  would  not  compromise  his  pencil  by 
sketching  it. 

The  villa  of  the  Prince  of  Campo  Franco  is,  with- 
out contradiction,  one  of  the  most  delightful,  espe- 
cially for  situation,  to  be  found  anywhere.  The 
dinner  was  magnificent,  but  wholly  Sicilian  ;  that  is  to 
say,  many  ices  and  quantities  of  fruit,  but  very  little 
fish  or  flesh.  We  must  have  seemed  ichthyophagists 
and  carnivora  of  the  first  rank,  Jadin  and  I,  for  we 
were  the  only  ones  who  ate  seriously.  After  dinner, 
coffee  was  served  on  a  terrace  covered  with  flowers, 
which  looked  upon  the  bay,  a  part  of  Palermo,  and 
Monte  Pellegrino.  The  hour  we  passed  on  that  ter- 
race, during  which  we  saw  the  sun  go  down  and  the 
landscape  pass  through  every  gradation  of  light  from 
vivid  gold  to  sombre  blue,  is  one  of  those  indescrib- 
able hours  that  we  find  in  our  memory  when  we  close 
our  eyes,  but  which  can  never  be  rendered  by  a  pen 
or  pictured  by  a  pencil. 

The  next  day  we  devoted  to  the  sights  of  the  city  ; 
a  young  man,  Arami,  a  college  friend  of  the  Mar- 
chese  di  Gargallo,  was  to  accompany  us,  dine  with 
us,  and  take  us  to  the  Opera.  We  began  by  the 
churches.  The  Uuomo  had  the  first  claim,  but 
we  had  already  gone  through  it  on  the  day  of  our 

24 


370  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

arrival ;  so  we  crossed  the  square  and  found  our- 
selves in  front  of  the  Palazzo  Reale,  which  is  built 
upon  the  foundations  of  the  ancient  Saracenic  Al 
Cassar.  We  entered  it  principally  to  see  two  things : 
the  famous  Syracusan  rams  which  were  transported 
there,  and  the  chapel  of  San  Pietro,  otherwise  called 
the  Capella  Palatina,  which,  in  spite  of  seven  hun- 
dred years  of  existence,  looks  as  if  it  had  just  come 
from  the  hands  of  the  Greek  mosaic  workers. 

We  looked  on  all  sides  for  the  rams,  and  at  last 
they  were  pointed  out  to  us,  coquettishly  painted  in 
sky  blue.  We  asked  to  what  ingenious  artist  belonged 
the  idea  of  painting  them  of  that  agreeable  colour, 
and  were  told  it  was  the  Marchese  di  Forcella.  We 
asked  where  he  lived,  that  we  might  leave  our  cards 
upon  him. 

Not  so  with  the  Capella  Palatina  ;  it  remains  a 
miracle  of  architecture  and  of  ornamentation.  No 
doubt  the  reverence  in  which  it  is  held  owes  some- 
thing to  tradition  (tradition  respected  and  trans- 
mitted by  the  Saracens),  which  asserts  that  Saint 
Peter,  going  from  Jerusalem  to  Rome,  did  himself 
consecrate  the  little  subterranean  chapel  which  now 
forms  the  mortuary  vault  of  the  Norman  building. 
The  solemn  beauty  of  the  latter,  especially  at  the 
hour  when  the  sun  sends  a  wondrous  glow  through 
the  richly  coloured  windows,  is  equalled  only,  and  not 
surpassed,  by  that  of  San  Marco  in  Venice. 

From  this  chapel  we  went  to  the  Observatory, 
where,  on  the  1st  of  January,  1801,  Piaz/i  discovered, 
thanks  to  Ramsden's  instrument,  the  planet  Ceres. 
As  our  de'ijms  were  less  ambitious  we  contented  our- 


THE   SPERONAIIA  371 


selves  with  looking  eastward  for  the  isles  of 
little  specks  upon  the  surface  of  the  sea,  and  west- 
ward to  the  village  of  Monreale  and  its  gigantic 
monastery. 

To  make  an  end  of  sight-seeing,  we  ordered  our 
coachman  to  drive  to  the  Saracenic  castles,  named 
7A7.il  and  Cuba,  though  our  friend  Arami,  in  whom 
we  placed  great  confidence,  assured  us  there  was  no 
important  tradition  attached  to  them.  The  Zi/a  is 
the  best  preserved,  and  still  shows  a  fine  Moorish 
room,  with  an  arched  ceiling  decorated  in  arabesques 
and  mosaics.  As  for  the  Cuba,  it  is  turned  into 
barracks. 

Near  these  two  Moorish  castles  stands  a  Christian 
monastery  of  great  reputation.  It  is  the  convent  of 
the  Capuchins,  the  fame  of  which  is  derived  from  the 
singular  property  possessed  by  its  cellars  of  mummify- 
ing dead  bodies,  and  preserving  them  free  from  cor- 
ruption until  they  turn  into  dust.  When  we  arrived 
at  the  convent  the  father  in  charge  of  visitors  took 
us  straight  to  these  catacombs.  We  went  down  thirty 
steps  and  found  ourselves  in  a  vast  subterranean 
chamber  in  the  form  of  the  cross,  lighted  from 
above,  where  a  spectacle  awaited  us  of  which  no 
words  can  give  a  just  idea. 

Let  the  reader  imagine  fifteen  hundred  dead  bodies 
reduced  to  the  condition  of  mummies,  grinning  in 
rivalry  with  one  another  ;  some  appearing  to  laugh, 
others  to  weep  ;  some  opening  their  mouths  immeas- 
urably to  loll  out  a  black  tongue  between  toothless 
jaws,  others  pinching  their  lips  convulsively,  — 
shrivelled,  twisted,  bony,  distorted  human  caricatures, 


372          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

palpable  nightmares,  spectres  a  thousand  times  more 
hideous  than  skeletons  hanging  in  the  closets  of 
anatomists,  all  arrayed  in  Capuchin  robes,  and  hold- 
ing in  their  hands  a  ticket  on  which  is  their  name, 
the  date  of  their  birth,  and  that  of  their  death. 
The  body  nearest  the  door,  who  in  life  was  named 
Francesco  Tollari,  carried  in  his  hand  a  stick ;  I 
asked  the  father  who  took  us  round  to  explain  that 
symbol.  He  answered  that  the  said  Francesco 
Tollari,  being  nearest  the  door,  was  appointed  to  the 
dignity  of  concierge,  and  was  given  a  stick  to 
prevent  the  others  from  going  out.  This  explana- 
tion put  me  greatly  ftt  my  ease ;  and  it  showed  the 
degree  of  respect  felt  by  the  worthy  monks  for  their 
lodgers.  In  other  lands  men  laugh  at  death  ;  here 
they  laugh  at  the  dead :  that  is  progress. 

It  must  be  said  that  in  this  collection  of  mummies 
those  that  are  not  hideous  are  laughable.  They  are 
placed  sometimes  in  two  rows,  sometimes  in  three 
rows  one  above  another,  side  by  side,  on  projecting 
planks,  so  that  those  of  the  lower  row  seem  to  serve 
as  caryatides  to  those  of  the  second  row,  and  those 
of  the  second  to  the  third  row.  Beneath  the  feet  of 
the  first  row  arc  wooden  chests,  more  or  less  valu- 
able, and  more  or  less  richly  decorated  with  heraldic 
bearings,  monograms,  and  crowns.  These  chests  in- 
close the  dead  for  whom  the  relations  provide  a  cof- 
fin ;  but  the  coffins  are  not  like  ours,  for  eternity ; 
they  have  lids  with  locks,  of  which  the  relations  keep 
the  key.  From  time  to  time  the  heirs  come  to  see  if 
those  whose  fortune  they  are  spending  are  still  there  ; 
their  uncle,  grandfather,  or  wife  makes  a  grimace  at 


THE   SPERONARA  373 

them  and  they  are  satisfied.  Consequently  you  may 
make  the  round  of  Sicily  without  hearing  a  single 
one  of  those  poetic  tales  of  ghosts  and  phantoms 
which  terrori/e  long  evenings  at  the  North.  For 
the  Southerner  a  dead  man  is  dead ;  there  is  no  mid- 
night hour  at  which  he  rises  ;  no  cock-crow  at  which 
he  disappears ;  how  can  any  one  believe  in  ghosts 
when  they  have  them  under  lock  and  key,  and  keep 
the  key  in  their  pocket  ? 

Besides  these  niches  occupied  by  the  ruck  of  the 
dead,  besides  the  chests  reserved  for  the  aristocracy, 
one  arm  of  this  vast  mortuary  cross  forms  a  species 
of  private  vault,  and  is  reserved  for  the  ladies  of  the 
upper  Palermitan  society.  It  is  there  that  death  is 
most  hideous ;  the  bodies,  lying  beneath  glass  cases, 
are  dressed  in  their  richest  clothes,  —  the  matrons  in 
ball  or  court  costume,  the  young  girls  in  white  gowns 
with  their  virginal  chaplets.  One  can  hardly  endure 
the  sight  of  those  faces  decked  with  flowers  and 
ribbons,  those  withered  arms  issuing  from  pink  or 
blue  satin  sleeves,  their  bony  fingers  wearing  gloves 
four  times  too  large  for  them,  and  those  shrivelled 
feet  in  silken  slippers,  their  bones  and  sinews  plainly 
visible  through  open-worked  silk  stockings.  One  of 
these  corpses,  horrible  to  see,  held  a  palm  in  her 
hand  and  had  this  epitaph  inscribed  on  the  plinth  of 
her  mortuary  bed  : 

SAFER  vuoi  DICHI  CIACCK,  IL  SKXSO  VKRO  :  AXTONIA 

PEOOCHE  FIOII 

PASSAGGIERO  VISSE  AXXI  xx  E  MORI  A  xxv 
SETTEMBRK  1S34-. 


374          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

Another  body  not  less  dreadful  to  look  at,  lying 
in  a  crepe  gown  and  a  coronet  on  a  lace  pillow,  is 
that  of  the  Signora  I).  Maria  Amaldi  e  Ventiiniglia, 
Marche-ssina  di  Spataro,  died  August  7,  1834,  aged 
29.  This  corpse  was  strewn  with  fresh  flowers  ;  the 
monk  whom  we  questioned  told  us  that  the  flowers 

were  renewed  every  day  by  Baron  P ,  who  had 

loved  her.  A  love  mighty  indeed  !  that  could  resist 
for  two  years  so  terrible  a  sight  ! 

We  had  been  in  these  catacombs  two  hours  and 
thought  we  had  seen  everything,  when  the  attendant 
monk  told  us  he  had  kept  for  the  last  the  most 
interesting  thing  of  all,  namely,  a  sight  of  the  dead 
bodies  in  process  of  desiccation.  We  had  gone  too 
far  to  shrink  back  now,  so  we  told  him  to  go  before 
us  and  we  would  follow. 

He  lighted  a  torch  and  opened  a  little  cavern  dark 
as  night,  and  entered  before  us.  Then,  by  the  ruddy 
glare  of  his  torch  we  saw  one  of  the  most  horrible 
sights  it  is  possible  to  see,  —  a  body,  entirely  naked, 
fastened  to  a  species  of  iron  railing,  the  feet,  hands, 
and  jaws  bound,  to  prevent  as  much  as  possible  the 
sinews  from  contracting ;  a  stream  of  water  flowed 
beneath  it  and  did  the  desiccation,  which  is  usually 
completed  in  six  months.  The  dead  person,  now 
passed  into  a  mummy,  is  then  clothed,  adorned, 
and  put  in  his  or  her  place.  There  are  four  of 
these  vaults,  each  of  which  can  contain  three  or 
four  bodies.  They  are  called  the  rotting-vats 
[pourrissoirs]. 

The  guests  of  this  ossuary  have  their  fete-days,  on 
which  they  are  dressed  in  their  Sunday  clothes,  clean 


THE   SPERONARA  375 

linen,  and  posies  in  their  belts.  The  doors  of  the 
catacombs  are  then  opened  to  their  parents  and 
friends.  Some,  however,  retain  their  every-day 
clothes  with  a  sombre  air.  Then  their  relations, 
who  think  they  know  what  saddens  them,  ask  if  they 
have  need  of  anything  and  if  a  mass  or  two  would  be 
agreeable  to  them.  The  dead  reply  with  a  motion 
of  the  hand,  or  a  nod,  that  that  is  what  they  want. 
Then  the  relations  pay  the  convent  for  a  certain 
number  of  masses,  and  the  following  year  they  have 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  their  dead  beflowered  and 
wearing  their  best  clothes,  in  sign  that  they  have 
left  purgatory  and  are  enjoying  eternal  beatitude. 

Is  not  all  this  a  very  strange  profanation  of  sacred 
things  ?  And  does  not  our  entombing  seem  a  far 
more  religious  way  of  returning  dust  to  dust?  I 
confess  I  saw  daylight  and  flowers  and  breathed  the 
fresh  air  with  relief;  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had 
wakened  from  a  fearful  nightmare,  and  though  I  had 
not  touched  any  of  the  inhabitants  of  that  gloomy 
abode,  I  was  pursued  by  a  corpse-like  odour  from 
which  I  could  not  free  myself. 

After  dinner  we  went  to  the  Opera  ;  two  of  the 
principal  seigneurs  in  Sicily,  who  undertook  its 
management,  had  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  rather 
good  company  ;  the  opera  was  "  Norma."  Bellini's 
masterpiece. 

I  had  often  heard  of  the  Sicilian  habit  of  dialog- 
uing by  gestures,  from  one  end  of  a  place  to  another, 
or  from  the  upper  to  the  lower  part  of  a  hall  or 
theatre.  This  science,  to  which  the  language  of  the 
deaf  and  dumb  is  but  a  b  c,  goes  back,  if  we  are  to 


376  JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

believe  tradition,  to  the  clays  of  Dionysius  the  Tyrant. 
lie  prohibited  gatherings  and  conversations  under  the 
severest  penalties  ;  the  result  was  that  his  subjects 
sought  and  found  a  means  of  communication  that 
took  the  place  of  words.  Between  the  acts  I  noticed 
very  lively  communications  between  the  boxes  and 
stalls.  Arami,  especially,  recogni/ed  a  friend  across 
the  house,  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  three  years,  and 
who  made  him  with  his  eyes  and  sometimes  with  his 
hands  what  seemed  to  be  a  narrative,  judging  by  the 
eager  gestures  of  my  companion,  which  showed  the 
deepest  interest.  This  comvrsaiio  ended,  I  asked 
if,  without  indiscretion,  I  might  be  told  the  facts 
that  seemed  to  excite  our  friend  Arami  so  much. 
"  Oh,  dear,  yes,"  he  said ;  "  the  man  I  talked  with  is 
one  of  my  best  friends,  absent  from  Palermo  for  three 
years.  He  tells  me  he  was  married  in  Naples  ;  then  he 
travelled  with  his  wife  in  Austria  and  in  France. 
There  his  wife  gave  birth  to  a  daughter  whom, 
unfortunately,  he  has  lost.  He  arrived  by  the 
steamboat  yesterday,  but,  as  his  wife  suffered 
much  from  seasickness,  she  has  stayed  in  bed, 
and  that  is  the  reason  he  has  come  to  the  theatre 
alone."" 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  I  said  to  Arami,  "  if  you  want 
me  to  believe  all  that  you  must  do  me  a  kindness." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Not  leave  my  side  this  whole  evening,  so  that  I 
may  be  certain  you  do  not  give  the  cue  to  your 
friend,  and  when  we  meet  him  in  the  fover  ask 
him  to  repeat  aloud  what  he  said  to  you." 

"  Willingly,"  replied  Arami. 


THE  SPERONARA  377 

The  second  act  of  "  Norma"  was  played,  and  then 
tlie  audience  adjourned  to  the  foyer,  where  we  met 
the  traveller. 

"My  dear  friend,"  said  Arami,  "I  could  not  quite 
make  out  what  you  said  to  me;  do  me  the  kindness 
to  repeat  it." 

His  friend  then  repeated  his  history  word  for 
word,  without  changing  one  syllable  from  the 
translation  Arami  had  given  me  of  those  signs.  It 
was  indeed  miraculous. 

Six  weeks  later  I  saw  a  second  example  of  this 
silent  communication;  it  happened  in  Naples.  I 
was  walking  with  a  young  man  from  Syracuse ;  we 
passed  a  sentinel;  this  soldier  and  my  companion 
exchanged  two  or  three  grimaces  which  in  any  other 
place  I  should  not  even  have  noticed. 

"  Poor  devil !  "  murmured  my  friend. 

"  What  did  he  tell  you  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Well,  I  thought  I  recognized  him  for  a  Sicilian, 
and  I  asked  him  as  I  passed  to  what  city  he  belonged  ; 
he  told  me  he  was  from  Syracuse,  and  knew  me  per- 
fectly well.  Then  I  asked  him  how  he  liked  the 
Neapolitan  service  ;  he  told  me  he  was  so  unhappy 
in  it  that  if  his  superiors  continued  to  treat  him  as 
they  did  he  should  certainly  desert.  I  told  him 
if  he  was  reduced  to  that  extremity  to  count  on  me, 
and  I  would  help  him  all  I  could.  The  poor  devil 
thanked  me  with  all  his  heart;  and  I  don't  doubt 
he  will  be  after  me  before  long." 

Three  days  later  I  was  in  my  friend's  apartment 
when  they  came  to  tell  him  that  a  man,  who 
Mould  not  give  his  name,  wanted  him.  lie  went 


378          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

out,  leaving  me  alone  for  ten  minutes.  On  his 
return  he  said : 

"Did  n't  I  say  so?" 

"Say  what?" 

"  That  that  poor  devil  would  desert." 

"  Ha !  ha !   was  it  your  soldier  who  wanted  you  ?  " 

"Himself:  an  hour  ago  his  sergeant  struck  him, 
and  he  ran  his  sword  through  the  sergeant's  body. 
Now,  as  he  does  n't  care  to  be  shot,  he  came  and 
asked  me  for  two  or  three  ducats  ;  the  day  after  to- 
morrow he  will  be  in  the  mountains  of  Calabria,  and 
in  two  weeks  in  Sicily." 

"  What  will  he  do  when  he  gets  there  ?  "   I  asked. 

"Heu!"  said  the  Syracusan,  with  a  gesture  im- 
possible to  describe,  "he  will  make  himself  a 
bandit." 

I  hope  that  my  friend's  compatriot  was  not  forced 
to  fail  in  carrying  out  the  prediction,  and  that  he  is 
at  this  moment  honourably  exercising  his  profession 
between  Girgenti  and  Palermo. 

The  next  day  we  started  for  Segesta,  with  the  in- 
tention of  stopping  on  our  return  at  Monreale. 

It  is  about  twenty-four  miles  from  Palermo  to  the 
tomb  of  Ceres,  and  yet  we  were  warned  to  take  as 
many  precautions  for  this  little  trip  as  we  had 
taken  for  the  journey  from  Girgenti  to  Palermo, 
robbers  having  a  singular  affection  for  this  particu- 
lar road,  deserted  most  of  the  time,  it  is  true,  but  all 
visitors  to  Sicily  take  it,  so  that  the  bandits  are  sure 
when  a  traveller  falls  into  their  hands  that  the  lack 
of  quantity  is  made  up  in  quality. 

We  were  five  men   well  armed,  and  Milord,   who 


THE  SPERONARA  379 

was  well  worth  a  sixth ;  so  there  was  not  much  to 
fear.  We  took  an  open  carriage,  our  double-bar- 
relled guns  between  our  legs,  —  all  but  one  of  us,  who 
sat  by  the  coachman,  his  carbine  slung  on  his  shoul- 
der, —  Milord  followed  the  carnage,  showing  his 
teeth,  and  by  means  of  these  precautions  we  reached 
our  destination  without  accident. 

As  far  as  Monreale  the  road  is  enchanting,  through 
the  region  of  the  well-named  Conca  d'Oro,  a  vast 
basin  of  emerald,  glittering  with  oranges  and  lemons, 
studded  with  oleanders,  myrtles,  and  orange-blossoms 
(for  the  trees  bloom  and  fruit  at  the  same  time), 
while  above  them,  here  and  there,  some  noble  palm- 
tree  waved  its  African  plume.  Beyond  Monreale, 
on  the  slope  of  the  mountain  towards  Alcamo,  the 
aspect  changes ;  vegetation  dries  up,  verdure  disap- 
pears, the  wild  herbage  recovers  its  power,  and  we 
are  once  more  in  a  desert.  At  a  turn  of  the  road, 
in  one  of  the  most  picturesque  positions  in  the  world, 
we  came  in  sight  of  the  sole  building  still  left  of  the 
ancient  city,  the  temple  of  Demeter,  standing  on  a 
species  of  platform,  whence  it  commands  the  desert, 
a  sad  and  melancholy  vestige  of  a  lost  civilization. 

A  Trojan  prince  named  Hippotes  had  a  very 
beautiful  daughter  named  Egesta,  for  whom  he 
dreaded  the  great  sea-monster  whom  Poseidon  had 
sent  against  Laomedon,  King  of  Troy,  the  latter 
having  forgotten  to  pay  to  the  said  god  the  sum 
agreed  upon  for  the  building  of  the  walls  of  Trov. 
Now  the  first  victim  offered  to  appease  the  monster 
was  Ilesione,  daughter  of  the  forgetful  debtor.  Hut 
Heracles,  who  chanced  to  see  her  as  he  was  passing, 


380          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

delivered  her,  and  then  the  monster,  very  hungry, 
imposed  the  cruel  condition  on  the  Trojans  that 
yearly  a  young  girl  should  be  given  him  to  devour. 
The  fathers  and  mothers  cried  out ;  but  hungry 
stomachs  have  no  ears ;  the  monster  held  firm,  and 
the  Trojan  people  had  to  do  as  he  chose.  Hippotes, 
fearing  that  the  choice  might  fall  on  his  beautiful 
daughter,  preferred  to  put  her  in  a  boat  filled  with 
provisions  and  cast  her  adrift  upon  the  sea.  Hardly 
was  this  done  before  a  soft  breeze  from  the  Dar- 
danelles wafted  the  boat  so  far  and  so  well  that  it 
came  to  the  shore  near  Drepanum  at  the  mouth  of 
the  river  Crimisus.  Now  the  Crimisus  was  one  of 
the  most  gallant  streams  of  antiquity,  brother  to  the 
Scamander  and  first  cousin  to  the  Alpheus ;  no 
sooner  did  he  see  the  beautiful  Egesta  than  he  dis- 
guised himself  as  a  black  dog  and  paid  his  court  to 
her.  She,  being  tired  with  her  voyage,  had  seated 
herself  in  the  shade  of  a  tree  after  eating  a  few 
pomegranates  she  had  gathered  on  landing,  and  fall- 
ing fiust  asleep  she  dreamed  a  dream  like  those  of 
Leda  and  Europa,  and  nine  months  later  gave  birth 
to  two  sons ;  one  she  named  /Eolus  (not  to  be  con- 
founded with  the  god  of  the  winds),  the  other  Acestes. 
History  does  not  record  what  became  of  ^Eolus,  but 
Acestes  built  a  city  on  the  banks  of  his  father,  and 
called  it  by  his  mother's  name,  Egesta. 

The  town  was  nearly  built  when  ^ueas,  driven 
from  Troy,  came  to  Drepanum  [now  Trupani].  He 
sent  some  of  his  lieutenants  ashore  to  explore  the 
land  ;  who  reported  that  they  had  found  a  people 
of  the  same  origin  and  speaking  the  same  language 


THE   SPERONARA  381 

as  their  own.  ^Eneas  landed  immediately,  went  to 
the  city,  and,  meeting  Acestes  among  his  workmen, 
the  two  princes  saluted,  named  themselves,  and  so 
became  aware  that  they  were  cousins-german.  All 
this  is  explained  in  the  5th  book  of  the  yEneid, 
which  is  about  the  last  mention  of  the  good  King 
Acestes  that  we  find  in  history. 

This  wise  king  dead,  his  subjects  must  needs  pick 
a  quarrel  with  the  Selinuntians ;  and  the  poor  little 
jxx>ple,  after  many  vicissitudes,  being  unable  to  hold 
their  own,  appealed  for  help  to  the  Athenians.  The 
Athenians  were  always  very  obliging  if  well  paid,  so 
they  first  made  sure  of  the  pecuniary  means  of  the 
Egestans  by  sending  deputies,  to  whom  were  shown 
vases  of  gold  and  silver  kept  in  the  temple  of  Deme- 
ter.  Being  thus  convinced,  Athens  sent  Nicias,  who 
began  by  asking  an  advance  of  thirty  talents,  about 
twenty  thousand  francs  of  our  money  ;  the  Egestans 
thought  this  reasonable  and  paid  it.  Nicias  then 
joined  his  cavalry  with  theirs  and  together  they 
sei/ed  the  town  of  Hyccara  and  sold  the  inhabitants, 
who  brought  in  a  total  of  one  hundred  and  twenty 
talents  (about  eighty  thousand  francs),  half  of  which 
should  have  gone  to  the  Egestans,  but  Nicias  forgot 
to  give  it  to  them.  Among  the  women  who  were 
sold  was  a  young  girl  twelve  years  old,  already 
famous  for  her  beauty.  This  young  girl,  carried  to 
Corinth,  became  the  celebrated  Lai's,  whose  beauty 
obtained  such  fame  that  painters  came  in  crowds, 
says  Athenanis,  to  gain  inspiration  from  the  mere 
sight  of  it.  But  all  were  not  admitted  to  her  pres- 
ence; the  sight  of  her  cost  so  dear  that  from  the 


382          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

price  she  put  upon  it  came  the  proverb,  "  It  is  not 
given  to  every  one  to  get  to  Corinth."" 

But  the  triumph  of  Egesta  did  not  last  long.  Nicias 
was  beaten,  taken  prisoner,  and  condemned  to  death. 
Egesta  fell  again  under  the  dominion  of  the  Selinun- 
tians,  and  so  remained  until  Hannibal  Gisgon  de- 
stroyed Selinunto  after  eight  days'  assault,  409  B.  c., 
when  Egesta  naturally  became  part  and  parcel  of 
the  victor's  spoils.  At  the  time  of  the  first  Punic 
war  she  revolted  ;  but  the  Carthaginians  never  went 
in  for  half-measures,  they  razed  the  town  and  carried 
to  Carthage  all  that  was  precious. 

The  Romans  triumphed,  and  then  the  unfortunate, 
dying  town,  recovered  a  little  life.  Sustained  by  the 
Senate,  which  gave  it  a  rich  territory  and  added  an 
S  to  its  name,  to  remove  the  idea  of  the  word  egestas^ 
which  means  beggary,  the  city  rebuilt  its  houses, 
temples,  and  walls.  But  its  walls  were  scarcely  up 
when  it  had  the  imprudent  courage  to  refuse  to  pay 
tribute  to  Agathocles.  That  was  the  end  of  Segesta  ; 
the  tyrant  put  the  inhabitants  to  death  as  one  man  ; 
the  temple  alone  survived  that  universal  destruction  ; 
and  there  it  stands  still,  dedicated  to  Demeter.  In 
this  temple  was  the  famous  bronze  statue  of  Deme- 
ter, which  was  taken  by  the  Carthaginians  when  they 
razed  the  town,  returned  to  the  Segestans  by  Scipio 
Africanus,  and  finally  stolen  forever  by  Verres  dur- 
ing his  praetorship. 

Two  little  streams,  which  were  dry  when  we 
crossed  them,  were  once  the  Scamander,  and  the 
SimoYs,  in  memory  of  the  two  Trojan  rivers.  The 
temple,  one  of  the  best-preserved  Doric  temples  in 


THE   SPERONARA  383 

existence,  is  grandly  impressive  in  this  desolate 
spot. 

It  was  never  finished ;  the  columns  are  unfluted ; 
many  of  the  stones  of  the  basement  still  have  the 
knobs  left  on  them  by  which  the  workmen  were 
pushing  them  into  place  when  Hannibal  Gisgon's 
army  swept  down  upon  the  city,  and  drove  them 
away.  So  strong  is  the  impression  conveyed  by  that 
one  fact  of  the  stones  lying  ready  and  waiting  to  be 
placed,  that  we  look  about  us  half  expecting  to  see 
the  men  returning  to  their  work.  Truly  a  thousand 
years,  nay,  two  thousand  years,  are  but  as  yester- 
day I1 

Jadin  made  a  sketch  of  the  temple ;  I  left  him  one 
of  the  men  of  our  escort  to  protect  him,  and  started 
myself  to  hunt  across  the  great  plain  covered  with 
thistles  and  fennel.  In  spite  of  the  favourable  nature 
of  the  ground  for  sport,  the  only  living  things  I  met 
were  two  adders,  one  of  which  I  killed  with  the  heel 
of  my  boot,  the  other  with  my  gun.  While  hunting 
we  came  upon  the  ruins  of  a  Greek  theatre,  but  it 
was  so  small  an  affair,  after  those  of  Taormina  and 
Siracusa,  that  I  cared  more  for  the  view  to  be  seen 
from  its  upper  pnucinctio,  commanding  the  a/ure  bay 
of  Castellamare,  the  ancient  harbour  of  Segesta. 

Our  coachman  was  not  willing  to  risk  returning  to 
Palermo  that  evening ;  all  that  he  consented  to  do 
was  to  let  us  choose  whether  to  sleep  at  Calatah'rni 
or  at  Alcamo.  As  the  keeper  of  the  temple  assured 
us  that  the  rector  of  Alcamo  kept  an  inn,  we  decided 

1  The  temple  commands  u  view  of  the  field  where  Garibaldi 
won  his  great  victory,  May  20,  I860.  —  TR. 


384          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

for  the  latter  place.  I  have  too  much  respect  for  the 
church  to  say  anything  here  of  the  inn  of  the  rector 
of  Aleamo.  We  started  the  next  morning  at  six 
o'clock ;  at  nine  we  reached  Monreale,  where  we 
breakfasted  and  then  went  to  see  the  cathedral. 

The  Cathedral  of  Monreale  is  perhaps  the  most 
precious  existing  monument  of  the  union  of  Greek, 
Norman,  and  Saracenic  architecture.  William  the 
Good  began  it  about  the  year  1180,  as  the  result  of  a 
vision.  Wearied  in  hunting,  he  lay  down  to  sleep 
beneath  a  tree ;  the  Virgin  appeared  to  him  and 
revealed  that  a  treasure  was  buried  at  the  foot  of 
that  tree.  William  dug  up  the  earth,  found  the  trea- 
sure, and  built  the  cathedral.  The  doors,  dating 
from  1186,  are  on  the  model  of  those  of  San  Gio- 
vanni in  Florence  ;  the  following  inscription  engraved 
on  one  of  them  leaves  no  doubt  as  to  their  maker : 
Bonanus,  civis  Pimnus,  me  fecit  —  "  Bonano,  citizen 
of  Pisa,  made  me." 

William  ordered  that  his  tomb  should  be  placed 
in  the  temple  he  had  built,  whither  he  transported 
the  bodies  of  Margaret  his  mother,  William  the 
Bad  his  father,  and  two  brothers  dying  young.  His 
request  was  eventually  fulfilled,  but  in  a  singular 
way.  Having  died  suddenly  of  a  fever  on  his  return 
from  Syria,  in  the  twenty-sixth  year  of  his  age  and 
the  twenty-fourth  of  his  reign,  he  was  buried  by  his 
successor,  Tancred  the  Bastard,  at  the  foot  of  the 
tomb  of  his  father,  William  the  Bud.  It  was  not 
until  1575  that  his  bones  were  exhumed  by  the 
Archbishop  Don  Luis  del  Torre,  and  placed  in  a 
white  marble  tomb  raised  on  a  platform  of  the  same 


THE  SPERONARA  385 

marble.  A  pyramid  rose  from  the  centre  of  this 
tomb,  on  one  face  of  which  were  engraved  these  words 
of  the  hundred  and  seventeenth  psalm,  which  the 
Norman  kings  had  adopted  as  their  motto  :  Dextera 
Domini  fecit  virtutem. 

In  1811  the  cathedral  took  fire ;  part  of  the  roof 
fell  and  damaged  these  tombs  more  or  less.  Those 
of  Margaret  and  the  two  children  were  wholly  de- 
stroyed. That  of  William  the  Good,  when  opened,  was 
found  to  contain  little  more  than  a  skull,  to  which 
hung  a  long  strand  of  auburn  hair,  indelible  sign 
of  the  Norman  race.  These  bones  were  inclosed  in  a 
wooden  case,  painted  blue,  covered  with  stars,  and 
marked  with  a  red  cross.  The  body  did  not  seem  to 
have  been  embalmed.  But  the  tomb  that  attracted 
more  especially  the  attention  of  antiquaries  was  that 
of  William  the  Bad.  On  opening  the  sarcophagus 
they  found,  first,  a  cypress  case  wrapped  in  a  spe- 
cies of  satin-cloth  of  a  dead-leaf  colour ;  and  that 
case  being  opened,  the  body  of  the  king  was  seen  in 
a  state  of  perfect  preservation,  although  six  centu- 
ries and  a  half  had  passed  away  since  his  burial.  In 
conformity  with  the  description  given  by  history,  it 
was  seen  that  he  was  six  feet  tall.  The  face  and  all 
his  limbs  were  intact,  except  the  right  hand,  which 
was  missing;  a  red  beard,  with  drooping  moustache, 
came  down  upon  his  breast ;  his  hair  was  of  the  same 
colour,  and  a  few  locks  torn  from  the  skull  were  scat- 
tered on  the  left  side  of  the  coffin.  The  corpse  was 
clothed  in  three  tunics,  one  over  another;  the  first 
was  a  species  of  long  jacket  of  gold-coloured  satin, 
that  still  preserved  a  fine  lustre ;  it  fell  from  the 

15 


386          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

neck  to  the  calves  of  the  legs,  and  was  made  full  at 
the  hips.  Beneath  this  garment  was  another,  of 
linen,  falling  also  from  the  neck  like  the  first,  and 
descending  half-way  down  the  leg.  This  was  very 
like  the  alb  of  a  priest;  and  it  was  fastened  round 
the  waist  by  a  silken  belt,  the  two  ends  of  which  were 
joined  by  a  buckle.  Beneath  this  second  garment  was 
a  shirt  also  starting  from  the  neck  but  covering  the 
whole  body.  The  legs  wore  long  satin-cloth  boots 
coming  nearly  up  to  the  thigh,  where  their  tops  were 
folded  over  to  the  depth  of  three  inches.  The  colour 
of  this  cloth  was  dead-leaf,  and  it  seemed  to  have 
been  cut  from  the  same  piece  that  covered  the  coffin. 
The  left  hand,  the  only  one  remaining,  was  bare,  and 
close  to  it  lay  the  glove  of  the  right  hand  ;  this  glove 
was  knitted  of  gold-coloured  silk,  without  any  seam. 

Close  to  the  cathedral  is  the  Benedictine  abbey,  and 
adjoining  the  abbey  is  the  cloister,  a  marvellous  con- 
struction in  Moorish  style,  supported  by  two  hundred 
and  sixteen  columns,  of  which  not  one  presents  the 
same  ornamentation  as  any  of  the  others.  On  one  of 
the  capitals  we  see  William  the  Good  on  his  knees, 
offering  his  church  to  the  Virgin.  It  is  this  cloister 
that  served  as  a  model  for  the  one  in  the  third  act 
of  "  Robert  le  Diable." 

They  were  valiant  men,  it  must  be  owned,  those 
Normans.  In  the  seventh  century  they  left  Norway 
and  appeared  among  the  Gauls.  Charlemagne  spent 
his  life  in  repulsing  them ;  and  when,  thinking  he 
was  rid  of  them  forever,  he  saw  their  numerous 
vessels  reappearing  on  the  horizon,  the  old  emperor 
was  so  discouraged  —  not  for  himself  but  for  his 


THE   SPERONARA  387 

descendants  —  that  he  crossed  his  arms  and  wept 
silently  over  the  future.  He  was  not  mistaken  ;  a 
century  had  not  gone  by  before  they  sailed  up  the 
Seine  and  besieged  Paris.  Repulsed  in  Neustria  by 
Eudes,  son  of  Robert  the  Strong,  they  clung  to  the 
soil,  from  which  it  was  impossible  to  dislodge  them, 
and  Charles  the  Simple  negotiated  with  Rollo  their 
leader.  Hardly  was  the  treaty  concluded  before 
they  built  the  cathedrals  of  Bayeux,  Caen,  and 
Avranches.  While  Gaul  had  as  yet  no  language, 
and  was  floundering  between  Latin,  Teuton,  and  the 
Romanic,  they  had  troubadours  of  their  own.  The 
ballads  of  Ron  and  de  Benoit  de  Saint-Maur  pre- 
ceded by  a  hundred  and  twenty  years  the  first  Pro- 
vencal poems.  William  the  Bastard  in  1066  had 
his  poet  Taillefer,  who  accompanied  him  everywhere 
and  to  whom  he  gave  the  Homeric  mission  of  singing 
a  conquest  not  yet  undertaken.  Then,  hardly  was 
England  conquered  (and  it  took  them  but  one  battle 
to  do  it)  when  the  victors  substituted  themselves  for 
the  vanquished ;  they  broke  the  ancient  Anglo-Saxon 
mould,  and  changed  the  language,  the  manners,  the 
arts  ;  so  that  nothing  was  seen  on  the  surface  of  the 
soil  but  them  and  their  ways,  the  previous  population 
disappearing  as  if  annihilated. 

While  these  deeds  were  being  accomplished  west- 
ward, something  even  more  incredible  was  going  on 
in  the  Orient.  A  handful  —  some  forty  Normans, 
losing  their  way  on  their  return  from  Jerusalem, 
where  they  had  gone  to  make  a  crusade  on  their  own 
account,  landed  at  Salerno  and  helped  the  I^mbards 
to  fight  the  Saracens.  Sergius,  Duke  of  Naples,  to 


388          JOURNEYS   WITH   DUMAS 

reward  them  for  this  service,  granted  them  a  tract  of 
land  between  Naples  and  Capua.  There  they  in- 
stantly founded  Aversa  in  1029,  which  Ilanulfo 
governed  with  the  title  of  count.  They  had  gained 
a  footing  in  Italy  —  was  it  all  they  wanted  ?  Wait 
and  see  —  here  comes  Tancred  d'Hauteville  and  his 
sons.  In  1033  they  land  upon  the  shores  of  Naples. 
Two  years  later  they  are  helping  the  Emperor  of  the 
East  to  reconquer  Sicily  from  the  Saracens  (seizing 
Pouille  for  their  share).  They  make  themselves  Dukes 
of  Calabria ;  they  float  for  a  moment  undecided  be- 
tween the  two  great  parties  that  divide  Italy,  but 
finally  decide  to  be  Guelfs ;  and,  sanctioned  one  day 
by  the  popes,  they  reward  them  the  next  by  fight- 
ing for  them  against  the  Western  emperors.  And 
how  much  time  did  it  take  them  to  do  all  that  ? 
From  1035  to  1060,  twenty-five  years  ! 

Room  for  Roger,  the  Great  Count !  It  does  not 
satisfy  him  to  be  Duke  of  Calabria  ;  he  steps  across 
the  straits,  takes  Messina  in  1061,  Palermo  in  1072. 
In  the  space  of  eleven  years  he  annihilates  the 
Saracenic  power.  But  it  is  not  enough  for  him  to 
be  a  conqueror  like  Alexander  and  a  legislator  like 
Justinian  ;  he  must  needs  unite  in  himself  the  sacer- 
dotal power  and  the  military  power,  the  mitre  and 
the  sword  ;  in  1098  he  had  himself  appointed  Pope's 
legate,  and  he  died  in  1101,  bequeathing  to  his 
descendants  that  title  which  is  still  one  of  the  most 
precious  of  the  present  King  of  Naples. 

His  son  Roger  succeeded  him,  but  his  ambition  was 
not  satisfied  in  being  Count  of  Sicily  and  Calabria  ; 
he  must  be  king.  He  had  himself  proclaimed  King 


THE   SPERONARA  389 

of  Sicily  in  1130;  in  1146,  he  sei/cd  Athens  and 
Corinth,  whence  he  brought  back  silk-worms  and 
mulberries.  In  1154  he  died,  leaving  Sicily  to  his 
son  William  the  Bad,  the  one  we  found  in  his  tomb 
at  Monreale  in  royal  clothes.  William  II.,  the  Good, 
his  son,  succeeded  him  and  built  the  cathedral  at  Mon- 
reale, the  cathedral  of  Palermo,  and  the  roval  palace. 
This  is  William  the  pacific,  William  the  poet,  Wil- 
liam the  artist.  He  profits  by  all  the  civilizations, 
Greek,  Moorish, and  Occidental;  he  takes  from  the  Oc- 
cidentals mystic  thought,  from  the  Arabians  form, 
from  the  Greeks  ornamentation  ;  finds  time  to  make  a 
crusade,  and  comes  back  to  die,  at  thirty-six  years  of 
age,  near  to  that  Dome  of  Monreale  which  he  built. 

In  him  became  extinct  the  legitimate  descendants 
of  the  Great  Count.  His  successor  was  a  bastard 
of  Roger,  Duke  of  Pouille,  named  Tancred.  With 
Tancred  died  the  last  of  the  Norman  kings.  Henry 
VI.,  who  married  Constance,  Roger's  daughter,  suc- 
ceeded him,  and  the  Suabian  family  was  henceforth 
on  the  throne  of  Sicily. 

A  few  hours  of  our  day  remained  to  visit  La 
Favorita,  the  royal  country-house  to  which  the  pre- 
dilection felt  for  it  by  King  Ferdinand  and  Queen 
Caroline  has  given  its  name.  During  their  long  stay 
in  Sicily  I^a  Favorita  was  the  summer  residence  of  the 
two  exiles.  It  was  from  La  Favorita  that  Lidv 
Hamilton  started  to  go  and  obtain  from  Nelson  the 
rupture  of  the  capitulation  of  Naples.  Nelson,  for 
a  night  of  pleasure,  broke  his  given  word,  and 
twenty  thousand  patriots  paid  with  their  heads  for 
the  cajoling  of  Emma  Lyonna,  formerly  a  London 


390          JOURNEYS  WITH   DUMAS 

prostitute.  La  Favorita  is  a  caprice  in  the  style  of 
the  Palagonian  folly,  except  that  La  Favorita  is 
wholly  Chinese,  internally  and  externally,  furniture 
and  gardens.  There  is  no  getting  away  from  kiosks, 
pagodas,  bridges,  and  tinkling  bells.  Needless  to 
say  that  it  is  all  in  shocking  taste,  and  in  the  very 
worst  Louis  XV.  style. 

On  returning  to  Palermo  we  found  the  whole  of 
our  ship's  company  awaiting  us  at  the  door  of  the 
hotel.  The  speronara  had  come  into  port  that  very 
morning  after  an  excellent  voyage.  She  brought 
with  her  a  fine  provision  of  Marsala,  bought  at  the 
vineyards.  We  had  to  let  the  good  fellows,  one 
and  all,  kiss  our  hands,  and  I  gave  them  rendezvous 
on  board  for  the  following  Monday. 


THE    END 


THE     ROMANCES     OF 
ALEXANDRE    DUMAS 


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